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succubaby · 1 year ago

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Bubbles

Pairing: Buggy x gender neutral!Reader

Summary: While he's being held captive by the Straw Hats, Buggy won't shut up, which gives you an idea.

Warnings: none, this is all fluff, some mentions of insecurities from Buggy but nothing too angsty

Word Count: 4.2k

Author's note: This idea came to me while I was daydreaming the other day, and I just had to write it down. This is based off of the live-action Buggy, although I am only on the second episode so it may not be canon-accurate. Also, he has long hair in this cause I said so (begging to see Jeff Ward with long hair next season). Hope y'all enjoy and let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! There will be a part 2, don’t worry <3 (The banners are from cafekitsune)

Edit: part two is up!

“So now what?”

The collection of Luffy, Zoro, Usopp, Sanji, and yourself stood in a circle, discussing what to do with a certain clown pirate’s head. Usopp is the first to speak up after Luffy asked the question.

“Well, we can’t leave him unsupervised; who knows what he’d get up to.” Everyone turned to look at Buggy’s detached head, which wore a cheeky look, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“I vote Y/N to take care of it,” Zoro states blankly, crossing his arms as he speaks.

“Hey! I’m still a person, even without the body, so don’t refer to me as it!” The objection comes from the animated head, vexation seeping through his tone. Your mouth momentarily twitches upward at his little outburst, it was almost reminiscent of a kitten hissing after unwanted pets.

“Why do I have to babysit him?” You turn to Zoro, matching his apprehensive stance. He meets your gaze with a cold look. You hadn’t been a part of the straw hat crew for long, and Zoro was taking his sweet time warming up to you.

“Because you’re the newest here, and that’s how hierarchy works.”

His tone left no room for argument. Your shoulders slump, and you let out an irritated sigh, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.

“Fine.” Rolling your eyes, you walk over to pick up Buggy, making sure to be gentle. The clown winks at you, a flirty smile on his face. You take him back to your cabin, not wanting to risk accidentally dropping him overboard. Despite only being a head, a smug aura radiates around him, already planning ways to mess with you.

You reach your cabin and kick the door open with your foot. Being the newest member of the straw hat crew, you were given the smallest room, not that you really minded. You place Buggy down on your bed, moving to sit at the small desk in the corner of the room.

“So what are we going to do first, darling?” Buggy smirks as he talks, clearly trying to get under your skin.

“We? There is no we. You’ll sit there quietly while I go over these maps.” You bark, not even bothering to spare him a glance.

“Aww, but where’s the fun in that?” You can hear the tease in his tone and can tell that he’s grinning without having to look at him.

“You’re not here to have fun. You’re being held captive, remember?” Smoothing your fingers out over the maps, you tilt your head, trying to focus.

“Yes, but who says captivity can’t be enjoyable?” His question shocks you, and you turn to gaze at him with an unamused look. Realizing that he’s completely serious, you let out a scoff.

“You really are crazy, clown.”

He smiles smugly, not bothered by your comment.

“It’s more fun that way.”

You roll your eyes and turn back to the maps, choosing to pretend he’s not there. ‘He must really like the sound of his own voice’, you think to yourself. The clown continues to talk your ear off, but after a while, you’re able to tune him out. Before long, you’ve analyzed all the maps. Turning back to him with a curious look, you realize he’s gotten to the end of some story you couldn’t care to listen to.

“And that’s why you don’t fall asleep on the beach.” Buggy smiles at you, enjoying your annoyance, watching you tilt your head at him.

“Cat got your tongue?” He purrs. Rolling your eyes, an idea pops into your head.

“Hey… I think I know how to get you to be quiet.” A sly smirk crawls its way across your face, and the clown’s chipper mood falters.

“Oh yeah? What might that be?” He tries to keep his confident demeanor, but the look on your face scares him.

You nibble on your bottom lip without responding before walking over to him and picking him up. This immediately wipes the smirk off his face, and he looks up at you, suddenly concerned for his safety.

“Hey now, what are you doing?” He asks nervously, secretly afraid you’ll throw him overboard for talking so much. You place him on top of your desk and move to grab the empty basin in the corner of the room.

“I’m giving you a bath,” you shrug nonchalantly, a cheeky smile on your face. He pales at that and laughs nervously.

“Wait, what do you mean? Are you going to waterboard me or something?” The look on the clown shows that he thinks it’s a real possibility, which causes you to chuckle.

“No, I’m just going to give you a bath; you smell like you could use one.” He just stares at you silently, quickly dropping his playful persona.

“What, cat got your tongue?” You mock him, and he gulps quietly. The fear in his eyes is quite amusing, you admit to yourself.

“You mean you’re literally going to bathe me?” A confused look crosses him, all the confidence in his voice gone.

“Yes.” You nod. “You look like you haven’t showered in weeks. Besides, now I’ll finally get some peace and quiet.” A smirk crawls across your visage, enjoying seeing the trickster squirm. It wasn’t often the clown had the tables turned on him, and he definitely didn’t expect it coming from you.

“Now, wait a minute, I can be quiet without that.” He looks up at you worriedly, the idea of a bath visibly rattling him.

“But I thought you wanted to have fun?” Your smirk widens and you put a hand on your hip.

“Okay, I take it back. I’ll be good, I swear.” A nervous laugh emerges as he tries to break the tension.

“Too late.” His face drops, triggering a small chuckle from you.

“Oh, relax, will you? I’m technically doing you a favor.” This time, a genuine smile graces your face, which does nothing to calm his nerves. “Now stay.” You put your hand up as if you were talking to a canine, to which Buggy rolls his eyes, your other hand holding the metal basin.

“I’m not a dog,” he mutters softly, not having the courage to stand up to you entirely.

You leer at him, opening the door to leave before shutting it behind you. Sitting there quietly, Buggy questions how he even got here. Not before long, you return, the bucket full of warm water. You place it on the ground, grab the towel off your shoulder, fold it, and lay it on the bed.

“You’re serious?” He says quietly, watching you semi-curiously, shocked that you weren’t kidding. You hum softly and nod your head.

“I am.” Looking up at him, you can see the fear on his features, and your eyes soften a bit. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

He eyes you suspiciously, not sure whether or not to believe your words. Grabbing a small pouch, you pull out a bar of soap and a small bottle, which Buggy assumes is shampoo. Lastly, you grab a small wooden board and place it over the center of the tub.

“So you don’t drown,” you utter, his question practically visible on his face. He nods slowly in response, having a hard time believing the situation.

“I’ll have to take this off,” you gesture to his bandana and he bows his head in agreement, deciding not to fight it as you seem pretty determined. Gently removing the striped cloth, you fold it nicely and place it on the other side of the desk. Secondly, you remove the hair tie that kept his bright blue mane in a ponytail. Buggy watches you silently, interested in your next move. Softly grabbing the sides of his head, you place him on the wooden board that lies across the center of the tub.

“I’m going to wash your hair first, okay?”

He nods in response, curious eyes never leaving your face. You grab a small cup and fill it with warm water, asking him to lean his head backward so it doesn’t get in his eyes. The clown does as you say, though instead of closing his eyes, he keeps them glued on you, not trusting that you won’t dunk him in the water. You gently pour the water over his hair, moving your other hand to shield his eyes as he seems to want to keep them open. The usually talkative clown stays silent, not wanting to admit to himself that the warm water feels quite pleasant.

“When was the last time you actually washed your hair?”

He raises an eyebrow at your question, pondering it momentarily before replying.

“I, uh, I’m not sure.” A nervous chuckle escapes his lips, expecting you to laugh at him. Instead, you smile gently and continue pouring water onto his hair.

“I can tell.” The words contain no malice as you utter them, merely expressing an observation. Seeing that his hair was now thoroughly damp, you grab the small bottle of shampoo, pouring some out into one hand. Rubbing your hands together to form some bubbles, you move to start massaging the soap onto Buggy’s head.

“Were you born with this?” You ask curiously, referring to the cerulean color of his tresses. He raises his eyebrow at you, not expecting the question.

“I was.” Nodding as he speaks, his eyes continue to analyze your face as if you were a puzzle he was trying to solve. You smile at him, continuing to lather the shampoo into his hair.

“It’s pretty. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Your words are soft, making sure that his whole scalp is covered in suds. He scoffs at this, thinking that you’re making fun of him. Momentarily pausing your movements, you lower your gaze to meet his eyes, finding insecurity dancing through them.

“I’m being serious. I wish I had brightly colored hair, maybe purple or something. Guess I wasn’t so lucky.” Going back to massaging his scalp, he looks up at you, utterly flabbergasted.

“You really think so?” He asks softly, timidity laced through his tone. You nod in response, a gentle smile on your face. Humming softly, the clown takes in the new information, wondering what else you think about him. He didn’t want to admit it, but the way your fingers carefully danced across his head felt incredible, not being able to remember the last time someone treated him so gently.

Reasoning that his hair was thoroughly soapy, you dunk your hands in the warm water to get rid of the remaining suds and quickly dry them with a towel. Subsequently grabbing the cup, you fill it with water and begin to wash the shampoo out of his hair. He stares at you all the while as if he is trying to commit your face to memory. After all the soap is washed out, you squeeze the ends of his hair to rid it of any excess water and grab a towel to wrap around his head. Leaning back to get a good look at him, you smile, finding his curious expression cute.

“Now for the face,” you utter, moving to grab a fresh towel and the bar of soap.

“Wait a second, you’re going to wash my face too?” asks Buggy, his timbre uneasy. You nod in response, replying in a steady tone.

“You’ve been wearing the makeup for so long that it’s partially gone.” Smiling at him softly, not expecting him to be so nervous. He laughs bitterly, not an ounce of humor in his voice.

“Can… can you just leave it?” His question is soft, and your surprise is visible on your face.

“You do know that leaving makeup on for too long is bad for your skin right?” You quip, trying to lighten his mood. Letting out a shaky breath, he shakes his head softly, and you can tell he doesn’t know what to say. Your smile drops, and you watch him for a moment, figuring out what to do next. His face paint seems to be a sensitive topic, and you don't want to push him too far.

“How about this,” you start, a kind smile returning to your face, “If you let me wash off this old makeup, I’ll redo it for you so it’s nice and fresh.” Sitting across from him calmly, you try to give off a safe and non-threatening aura to make him feel more comfortable around you. He stares at you for a moment, astonished that you would offer such a thing. You stay silent, patiently waiting for a response.

“You’d do that for me?” he asks after a moment, the surprise in his voice evident. You nod, making sure to maintain the soft smile on your face. “You’re in luck because I just got some new face paints.” Leaning over to open the drawer of your desk, you pull out a palette with every color of the rainbow on it and some clean brushes, holding them up so he could see. He tilts his head in response, trying to discern whether or not you were serious. After what feels like forever, he finally returns your smile and nods.

“Deal. Can you make it match how it normally looks?” He looks up at you with a soft smile, secretly hoping that you’ll do a decent job.

“Of course.” Grinning, you grab the towel and soap, excited that he’s letting you do this. You wet the soap bar, rubbing it between your hands to generate some bubbles, and gently start the wash the old makeup off his face. The clown continues to stare at you, though his energy is much more relaxed than before.

“You’re really pretty,” he comments after a moment, causing your hands to falter. Feeling the heat rise to your face, you smile, taking a moment to meet his gaze.

“You’re pretty too,” you mutter softly. Now that his face is mostly clean, you see a light blush begin to form on his cheeks.

“I’m nowhere near as pretty as you.” The confidence is back in his voice, and he winks at you flirtily. You can help breaking out into a smile, choosing not to say anything in response. He watches you quietly as you wash the soap off of his face. Unbeknownst to you, Buggy never let anyone see him without makeup, but something about you told him that he could trust you. He’d also be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy the view of your face being so close to his.

“Now for the fun part.” Grabbing the palette with one hand and a brush with another, you grin at him, excited to replicate his face paint. Truth be told, you loved doing makeup, but the only person who would let you do it was Luffy. There was one time Nami let you do hers, but it was after everyone else went to bed and she wiped it off immediately after. Your smile faltered at the thought of the orange-haired girl, and you remembered why Buggy was with your crew in the first place. The clown immediately noticed and looked up at you inquisitively.

“You okay?” He asks softly, already missing your smile. You nod and debate on telling him the truth, ultimately deciding that you should.

“I’m just thinking about Nami.” You force a smile back on your face, but Buggy can tell it’s not real.

“That’s the girl Arlong took, right? Fiery personality with hair to match?” He asks, and the description of her causes a genuine smile to come across your face. You nod softly.

“That’s the one.” Staring at him with interest, you wonder if he’ll tell you Arling’s location since he clearly knows it.

“We both know I know where they are, and truth be told I had no intention of telling any of you, but something about you is special.” Your eyes widen at his words, was he really going to give it up that easily?

“He’s at Arlong Park, and I’ll bet she’s with him. I’ll take you there, as a thank you for all this.” You beam at him, ecstatic at the thought of saving Nami. It’s at that moment when Buggy decides your smile is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You rush out, your excitement getting the best of you. He chuckles at your enthusiasm and nods, a smile on his face as well.

“Now be quiet so I can do your makeup,” you say cheekily, dipping the brush into the white knowing that it’s the base for his signature look. He laughs in response but has one last thing to say.

“Do you need me to tell you how to do it?” He looks at you as you shake your head, your smile still prevalent.

“I’ve seen so many of your bounty posters, I’ve practically got it memorized.” His eyes widen at this, and his grin gets bigger.

“Oh, do I have myself a secret admirer?” The clown asks smugly, and he notices the blush that falls upon your face. If he knew it was so easy to make you flustered, he would have done it far sooner, finding you absolutely adorable.

“Shut up and let me work.” You bark, your tone not holding any aggression. He laughs again but does as you say, and you begin to paint his face white. For once, he remains silent, watching you work. Before long, the base is done and you move on to the blue triangles above and below his eyes. You stay silent as your brush runs along his face, wanting to make it look perfect until a thought comes into your head.

“You know something?” He hums, prompting you to continue. “You have the most captivating eyes I’ve ever seen.” Said eyes widen, never having been told that before. Buggy silently thanks the universe for the makeup covering his face because he can feel the heavy blush rising to his cheeks.

“Th-thanks,” he mutters quietly, not sure how to respond. You tilt your head at him, curiously studying his face.

“You’re not used to receiving compliments, are you?” Smiling at him softly, you watch as he shakes his head, letting out a nervous laugh.

“Usually I’m the one giving the compliments.” He looks up to meet your gaze, partially expecting you to laugh at him. You do nothing of the sort, instead smiling at him gently.

“Well, that’s a shame because I think you’re pretty handsome.” You wink at him, wanting to make him feel more comfortable since flirting seems to be one of his pastimes. His eyes widen again, the surprise written all over his face. Without saying anything else, you finish the blue around his eyes and move on to the red, cleaning the brush and dipping it into the face paint. The clown stays silent as you work on the red smile around his mouth, internally wondering if you meant what you said. When you get to his nose, he tenses up, a clear indicator that he’s insecure about it. You make sure to be extra careful as you paint the red onto his skin.

“I meant what I said, I do find you quite attractive.” His eyes search yours for any hint of insincerity but find none. The king of flirting himself is stunned into silence, feeling his heart flutter at your words. You say nothing else and go back to finishing the makeup. Deciding to observe your face while he had the opportunity, he notices that you stick your tongue out slightly when concentrated, and he swears he’s never seen anything cuter.

“All done!” You pull away proudly, assessing your work. It looks almost identical to his bounty picture, and you internally pat yourself on the back for your memory. Getting up to grab a mirror, you find one in the small dresser and bring it towards Buggy, holding it up so he can see his reflection. He looks in the mirror and instantly grins, impressed with your makeup skills.

“You know, you would be a wonderful addition to my crew.” You chuckle in response, not thinking that he’s being serious.

“You need a professional makeup artist?” You joke, internally glad he thinks you did a good job.

“No really, we could use someone like you.” His proposal shocks you, not expecting him to say something like that.

“You don’t know me,” you speak quietly. He just smiles at you, taking in your beauty.

“I know enough. You’re kind, funny, and great at makeup.” The clown winks at you, enjoying the surprise on your face. “I’ve also heard you are quite the fighter.” Smirking at you, he gives you a look that tells you he means what he says. You just stare at him in silence, having a hard time believing your ears.

“So, sweetness, what do you say?” Gaping at him, you blink a few times, processing his offer. After a moment, you sigh, indecision written all over your features.

“I don't know, I’d have to leave the straw hats, and I’m not sure I could do that.” Surprisingly, his face softens at your words.

“Tell you what, let’s head off to save your friend and find my body, and then you can decide.” His smile remains soft, which is unusual for the clown. “I don’t think your current crew appreciates you. I mean, look at today, they gave you the task of babysitting me when you have so much more to offer.” Eyes widening at his words, you realize that maybe he’s right.

“Luffy appreciates me,” you whisper softly, though you’re not sure whether you’re trying to convince him or yourself.

“He might, but grass head certainly doesn’t.” You want to smirk at the nickname for Zoro, but there’s too much going on in your mind for your facial muscles to pull through.

“All I’m going to say is this, you’d have a real place in my crew, and not just on the bottom of the totem pole. Besides, I think you like my company just as much as I like yours.” He gazes at you, studying your body language, and you realize that he’s right, you do enjoy his company. You start nibbling on your lip out of nervous habit, and he picks up on it immediately.

“You don’t have to decide now, we can go rescue your friend first, okay?” He watches your shoulders visibly relax at that, and smiles in return.

“Okay.” You say softly, smiling back at him. “Your hair should be dry now.” Moving closer, you carefully take the towel off his head and giggle at the fluffy blue mess.

“Thank the stars I have a brush.” Buggy chuckles at the comment and watches you grab the hairbrush with a smile on his face. Softly working through the tangles, you watch as his hair goes from frizzy to smooth. As you’re running the brush through his mane one last time, the door opens, revealing a shocked and somewhat appalled Zoro.

“What the hell is going on in here?!” Yells the swordsman, and you turn to him with a confused look.

“Well, you told me to watch him so I did.” You shrug, not liking the attitude coming from your crewmate.

“I said watch him, not give him a makeover! Did you do his makeup too?” The horrified look on Zoro’s face made Buggy laugh, not used to seeing the man lose his cool.

“You guys never let me do your makeup, so I had to improvise!” You bark back, crossing your arms. Zoro just stares at you silently, clearly having difficulty processing your kindness towards the clown. After a while, he rolls his eyes and scoffs.

“Whatever. Luffy needs him so we can find out where Nami is.” He mirrors your stance, crossing his arms.

“I already know where she is,” you spit, growing tired of the way he speaks to you. The swordsman scoffs, not believing you for a second.

“Oh, really? How?” A faux smile creeps onto his face, prepared to catch you in a lie.

“Because Buggy told me.” Zoro’s face drops and the man is stunned into silence. The clown immediately bursts into laughter, enjoying Zoro’s dumbfounded look. The green-haired man gawks for a moment, before moving his hands around, silently asking the question ‘how’.

“Because they’re nice and you’re an asshole,” Buggy says smugly, and you can tell he’d be crossing his arms if he had the rest of his body. You break out into a soft chuckle at this, which snaps Zoro out of his trance.

“I’m not explaining this to Luffy, so you better take the head and go find him.” The swordsman scoffs again before leaving the room, shaking his head the whole time. Rolling your eyes, you move back toward the clown, mumbling to yourself while putting his hair back in a ponytail.

“Don’t let him get to you, he won’t know what he has until it’s gone.” Buggy’s cheeky grin triggers your own, and you laugh softly, gently picking him up to go find Luffy.

©️ succubaby, 2023

Please do not replicate/repost :)

#my writing #buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy #one piece #one piece x reader #buggy one piece #op buggy #op buggy x reader #buggy fanfiction #buggy fanfic #buggy the genius jester #buggy one piece x reader

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rainrot4me · 2 months ago

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Rain’s Kinktober 2024 - 08

Laughing Jack x Male Reader - Wet Dream/Somnophilia

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Somnophilia, gentle non-con, anal, creampie, wet dreams, dream manipulation, forced sleep, praise, size difference, analingus, rimming, felching

Tag: #rainykinktober2024

Words: 2.6k

It’s not your fault that you’re always coming home from work to the point of exhaustion, being overworked every shift.

And it’s also not Jack’s fault you’re just so pliable in that state…

He can’t help himself, can’t bring himself to do the morally right thing and leave you to get a good night's rest- not when you’re only wearing an extra baggy shirt with nothing but boxers underneath.

You’re just too handsome. Your skin is so soft, your hair smells so good, your ass is the perfect shape, your moans are so lovely, and your cum is just so sweet- the list could go on forever.

Everything about you is perfect- especially the way you never know he’s there. Completely oblivious, completely at his mercy.

“Hello, my love…” The clown purrs, perching his long limbs on your dresser and watching silently as you settle and turn in your sleep. Your soft snores are so cute, eyelashes lay so elegantly on your freckled skin. He could just sit here forever watching you like this. But his cock twitching painfully in his slacks urges him forward, his breathing growing uneven.

In the silence of your dark bedroom, the only light is the humming static of the television nestled in the corner, the white light illuminating your sleepy features and flushed skin. Jack wants to take his time, wants to ease you in- you just make it so hard when you’re practically beckoning him in every night.

Adjusting in your sleep, you round onto your side, curling tight as you hold your pillow. Jack presses in, the bed dipping under his weight as he slides beside you.

The clown can feel you stir when he presses against your back, wrapping his long arms around your torso and pressing your back against his large chest. He swallows you whole, intertwining his legs with yours and holding you tight.

It doesn’t help that you lean in, arching your back into his and pressing your plump ass against his crotch. Jack has visited you enough, spent his nights in this bed enough that your body comes to expect him- craves him. He can see it, can sense it in the way you breathe just a little slower when you feel his weight.

The clown knows you need him, maybe even more than he needs you- but he wants to make it a little easier, a little more enjoyable.

It’s always the same dream, always the same release he wants to give you. Your head feels so heavy, unconsciousness lingering deep in your brain as foggy images circle. The clown manipulates your dream, phantom feelings of warmth around your limp cock or a warm tongue running up your skin. He’d show you anything you wanted, anything that made your hips jerk and press back against him.

“Wanna make you feel so good, love…” He hums, the feathers from his collar tickling your skin as Jack buries his face into your neck. Pressing open-mouth kisses against your neck, he slides a claw up your shirt, palming at your warm skin underneath.

Pinching his claws against your skin, you huff, gasping at the sensitivity. Jack groans, breathing in your sweet scent as he rides your shirt up, pinching at your nipples. You’re so much smaller than him, fitting so perfectly.

Rutting his hips gently, Jack reaches to undo his suspenders, sliding the straps off of his shoulders. He’s so enveloped in your taste, your sweet skin warm under his eager tongue as he nips and bites at your neck. You’re gasping, the clown tugging your shirt up and over your head to get better access to your shoulder.

“So lovely… so warm…” Burying his face between your shoulder and the extensive amount of pillows you have swallowing you both, Jack can feel you stir, shifting against him. He flexes your dream, pressing more lovely feelings into the haziness of your mind and leaving you a softly moaning mess. Pressing his claw against your stomach, you settle back, pressing the roundness of your ass perfectly on his clothed cock. The clown huffs, minding his nose as he licks a stripe behind your ear, goosebumps freckling across your legs. It doesn’t go unnoticed the way your cock twitches instinctively beneath the thin fabric of your boxers, the clown smiling.

“Hard already? It’s alright… I know what you need…” He grins, the deep sigh you let out when his claw slips beneath the band of your boxers egging him on. Your thighs instinctively part, his large hand swallowing your wilting cock, pumping it so gently- just enough to make your hips jerk with the motion. He’s meticulous, dragging each pull with gentle, thorough movements. You grind back against him, completely oblivious but absolutely thriving in the stimulation he’s providing you.

“Good… Just like that…”

Jack wants to wake up you, needs to see your face as he provides you with every amazing feeling- but he knows it’s not time yet. The clown is keenly aware of how you never look for a relationship, never finding the need for a hookup, or any sexual release because he provides it for you every night. Your body doesn’t want for anything because everything is already given so graciously by him. Your body needs him, your mind needs him… So, he’s willing to stay under the cover of nightfall to happily provide.

Pushing your boxers past your plump ass, Jack is repositioning, tugging the covers further down as he slinks between your thighs. Rolling you onto your stomach, the clown helps you relax into the pillows, hugging one close to your chest as the glow from the television kisses your features. He smiles, pulling your boxers off of your ankles and tossing them to the side.

Cupping his arms under your hips, the clown lays on his stomach, his large figure nearly too big to fit on the bed, but he makes it work. You’re so encapsulating, back arching just enough to display your puckered hole, so pretty and mouthwatering. Jack brings himself close, his claws digging into the mounds of your ass and tugging them apart to give him better access. He’ll try to be gentle, adding a little more pressure to the dream he’s concocted in your head- just to make sure you don’t wake up.

Slipping his tongue from between his spiked teeth, the long muscle takes a long lap against your warmth. You gasp, exhaustion heavy on your body as you press back, knees digging into the soft covers. Your shirt is riding up your back, little marks and half-faded bruises from previous encounters placed meticulously so you wouldn’t be able to see them; they’re only for Jack to admire, in this position specifically.

Digging his nails into your flesh, he goes in again, his tongue forcefully bullying against the tight hole. You’re huffing into the pillow, rutting your hips back lazily the more he has to work. No matter how many times Jack works you open- fucks you open- you’re always so tight and he loves it. It takes some force, but finally the warm muscle slips in and he smiles at the long groan you let out. You taste so good, so warm, and tight around his tongue. Clasping his lips down, he presses in further, letting his eyes flutter shut as the clown gently eats you out.

He takes his time, soaking up every writhing and jerk of your hips, capturing you with every slide of his warm tongue against your insides. The muscle is long, reaching deeper and pushing pressure against your walls- you feel so full, unable to really press back far enough to reach that lovely spot inside.

Jack can read your impatience, massaging your ass while his saliva builds against the tight ring, preparing you for him. Your wonton cries muffle into the pillow you’ve cradled against your chest, cheeks dark and puffy as you begin to pant. Jack follows, slowly fucking his tongue and stretching you open, spit dribbling down his chin. Jack knows you feel good, knows his tongue could never do the job his cock could- but he needs to make sure you feel your best. Always do your best.

“You’ve go’ it, ma’ love,” He grovels against your hot skin, letting his tongue slide out to lap against your puckered hole, flinching and ready. “Jus’ a lil’ more…”

Your tired whines grow, mumbling incoherently as Jack plunges back in, bullying his tongue back in. He should take more time, he should really make sure your plush walls can handle him- but you’re both ready. He can feel it, see it in the way your twitching cock dribbles pre onto your sheets messily. Jack isn’t much better, his cock nearly hurts under the constraints of his pants, length whining to be inside of you already.

He forces his tongue out, your hips following back at the loss of stimulation as you huff. Normally, you would’ve woken up, realizing the feelings weren’t just that of a hyper-realistic dream. But the clown is careful and precise with how he sways your consciousness, forcing you into a deeper slumber the more stirred you get. To you, it’s just a glorious wet dream. To him, it’s everything.

Pushing up onto his knees, Jack barely has time to unbutton his pants and drag his heavy cock out before you’re rutting your hips into the mattress, chasing an absent feeling. The clown smiles, running a hand through his tangled hair and pushing it out of his face before he slides back to your side.

Instinctively, you lean into him, back pressed against that familiar weight. Jack chokes out a gasp when your soaked ass glides back against his cock, hole fluttering against the warmth. Even in sleep, you beckon for him.

“God. I’m going to make you feel so good.” With tender touches, Jack wraps himself back around you, wrapping his arm around the small of your waist to hold you closer. Reaching down, he grips his cock firmly, sliding the girth between your ass to collect his spit and stroke himself slowly.

Your jaw hangs, tiny gasps when his bulbous head presses against the tight ring of your hole and begins to press in. You’re tight, incredibly so, that Jack has to nudge his hips a little each time to finally pop his cockhead inside of your warmth. You’ll have to forgive just how much larger he is than you, his cock no exception.

“Mhnn… So tight, so warm… Does this feel good, my love?” You unknowingly answer with jagged breaths and loud gasps that have Jack smiling against your skin. He praises you with sweet kisses up your nape, whispering praises into your hair until you’re nearly shaking against his hot breath.

His cock ruts against your tightness, bullying its way further and further inside, the sloppiness echoing in the quietness of your dark room. The taste of your skin, the swell of his cock, every noise you let you- it just elevates every overwhelming feeling.

“It feels so good right…? I make you feel so, so good…” Jack moans into your ear, cupping a claw under your thigh to separate your legs and fuck himself deeper. He’s going as gently as he can, as easily as his hips will allow as you arch your back, beckoning to him. The clown latches his lips onto your shoulder, suckling obscene hickies that only he’ll get the pleasure of seeing, just out of your sight in the mirror.

You’re gripping him so tight, gasping and moaning every time his cock brushes that sweet spot deep inside, your fingers digging into the pillow. When Jack attempts to speed up, to spill himself, you begin to squirm- you’re just so full, the pressure building. Pre dribbles from your heavy cock onto your sheets, your flushed face hot and sweaty as he sensually fucks you with deep, thorough thrusts, making sure he’s buried at the hilt. Jack wants you to feel all of him, no matter how much your body writhes and tries to get away- he knows you want it.

Unconsciously, you reach a hand back, clawing through Jack’s shaggy black strands. He nearly cums, heart swelling with pride as you purposefully accept him, call to him. His cock swells, ravaging your walls and forcing its way to the hilt, the clown straining not to take a welting bite out of your shoulder and wake you up. “God, so good… You’re doin’ so good, love.”

Your jaw hangs, lips parted to sweetly when Jack heartily fucks against your prostate, ramming his wilting cockhead against that nerve. Moans and shrilled gasps hang on every thrust, the clown clawing against your skin, pulling your knee back further so you feel every inch of him. Through heavy eyes, he watches your cock spill, each thrust pushing a stripe of cum onto your stomach as your body twitches and jerks from the overstimulation. “There you go… Finish for me… I know you needed it…”

He becomes dizzy, so cockdrunk on you that every inch he tugged out was a race to get it all back inside, back into your warmth, back to making you feel good. You just fit around him so perfectly, made for him. One day you would see him- he was becoming too restless just to have you at night…

“Give it to me just like that… Gonna give you what you want…” Jack swore, wrapping a claw around your chin and pulling your face back to his, forcing you into a kiss. You panted into his mouth, Jack forcing his tongue between your lips and tasting every inch of you. The clown let his eyes close, his thick cock heavy and begging to spill as he groaned and bit against your plump lips. Another accidental tug of his messy hair as the last of your orgasm washed over you and Jack was cumming, heaving as he thrusts his hips up once, twice-

Popping off of your mouth, the clown grits his teeth, a shrill groan as he comes deep into your warmth, filling you slowly. He claws into your skin, tugging at your thigh as he buries himself, riding out every wave that hits him, the pit in his stomach so heavy.

Afterward, Jack will take his time, breathing slowly as he pulls himself out and watches his cum dribble down the side of your leg. He cleans you, lapping his tongue across your stomach and into the glorious swell of your ass to taste himself mixed with you. Each kiss on your skin is followed by a whisper, a small compliment to leave you with. He takes his time, the gentle line of the morning sun just barely pressing into the sky. He knows you’ll be up soon, wondering why you feel so light and sore, your body riddled with relief you didn’t know you needed.

Jack will be there to watch you stir awake, face flushed with the thought of the crazy dream you had the night before, arms reaching behind to search for a body that isn’t there. He’ll admire you as you get ready for work again with a little more spring in your step than the day before, and wait patiently for you to return.

The clown prays for the day he can watch your handsome face smiling at him, truly call to him- but until then, he’ll wait.

He can’t have you during the day, but he’ll gladly take you every night.

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

Thanks to my wonderful editors @h3llw1 and @solarbites!

#rainykinktober2024 #creepypasta #smut #creepypasta smut #creepypasta fanfic #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta x male reader #creepypasta x y/n #creepypasta x you #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta nina the killer #laughing jack x you #laughing jack x reader #laughing jack #laughing jack smut #laughing jack x male reader #lj creepypasta #slenderverse #kinktober

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wooattackrr · 5 months ago

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Opposites Attract

MDNI

word count: 1,704

a/n: as I was writing this I realised most of my fics are school plot

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You had always been the studious one, the kind of student who could ace exams without breaking a sweat. Mingyu, on the other hand, was the quintessential class clown—loud, unpredictable, and always the center of attention. His antics had made him a legend in your high school, but you never expected the two of you would ever spend time together outside of class.

However, that all changed when the teacher announced mandatory tutoring sessions for struggling students. To your surprise, the person assigned to your group was none other than Mingyu himself. You were apprehensive about it at first; after all, you knew how he could be. Would he be serious about his studies, or just use the time as another opportunity for jokes and laughter?

The first few sessions were exactly what you expected. Mingyu would arrive with a quick grin and a barrage of puns that could make anyone groan. You would roll your eyes and get back to work, trying to make the most of your time with him. But slowly, as the days passed, you began to appreciate his humor more. Beneath the façade of the class clown, you discovered a more thoughtful side to Mingyu. He wanted to improve, and with your help, he actually started to.

Your meetings eventually shifted from awkward and frustrating to enjoyable and filled with banter. You would laugh at his silly jokes and tease him about his notorious reputation, while he would engage attentively with the material, even occasionally asking for clarification on topics he found difficult. It was surprising how he could change from a playful joker to a focused student in the span of just a few minutes.

One Wednesday afternoon, as winter settled in and the sun began to set early, you both found yourselves deep into a particularly challenging math problem in the quiet confines of the local library. You were seated at a large, wooden table illuminated by the soft glow of a desk lamp, surrounded by bookshelves stacked high with novels and textbooks.

"Okay, explain this part again," Mingyu said, resting his head on one hand, his expression half-focused, half-exasperated. Your fingers traced the numbers on the paper as you explained the concept of quadratic equations.

“Imagine it like a jump,” you said, enthusiastically drawing an exaggerated parabola in the air with your free hand. “When you throw a ball, it goes up, then comes down. The highest point is the maximum value, and the whole trajectory is shaped like a curve, just like this.”

Mingyu mimicked your hand movements, a smirk dancing on his lips. “So you’re saying if I throw a ball really hard, I’ll pass this math test?”

You laughed. “If only it were that simple.”

The hours flew by, marked only by the ticking clock on the wall and the occasional rustle of paper. You had both lost track of time. It wasn't until the library announced its closing for the night that you realized how late it had gotten.

"Oh no, we're locked in!" Mingyu exclaimed, looking around furtively as you both realized the entrance doors were indeed shut tight. "What are we going to do? We’ll be trapped here forever!"

“Calm down,” you said, trying to mask your unease with a shrug. “We’ll just wait for someone to come back and let us out.”

“Yeah, right,” Mingyu said, plopping down in a chair dramatically. “I’d probably just start doing my stand-up routine to keep myself entertained until then.”

The playful banter continued as you both settled into the unexpected situation, and soon, you found yourselves in a comfortable silence surrounded by the stories that lined the walls of the library. But in that quiet moment, Mingyu turned to you, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Since it’s just us here, do you want to hear a secret?” he asked, leaning closer with intrigue. There was a moment of tension, a thin line drawn between the humor and seriousness you both shared.

“A secret? From you?” you teased. “I’m not sure I trust you to keep it.”

Mingyu feigned offense. “I promise! No jokes. Just… honest.”

“Alright, then,” you said, your interest piqued. “Let’s hear it.”

“I think you’re really smart,” he said, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. “And I mean, smart-smart. Like, you get all the answers and I can barely figure out which number comes next.”

You blinked, taken aback by the honesty in that statement. “That’s sweet of you to say, but it’s just studying.”

"But you study because you care," he replied, sincerity etched on his face. “You don’t just do it to get grades… you want to help others, too.”

His gaze was steady, and for a moment, the classroom antics and the laughter faded away. It was just the two of you—Mingyu and you caught in an unexpected act of vulnerability. You felt a warmth rise within you, something you hadn’t anticipated.

“Mingyu…” you began, unsure of where this conversation was leading. But before you could finish your thought, he shifted closer, the distance between you shrinking until it felt electric.

“Mingyu!” you exclaimed, half in surprise, half in protest, yet your heart raced with an excitement you couldn’t quite analyze.

“I’ve been thinking…” he murmured, inching even closer, his face a mere breath away from yours. “Maybe I’ve been hiding behind jokes and laughter… but I really like spending time with you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his honesty washed over you. It was unexpected but refreshing. In that moment, the world around you melted away until it was just the two of you, the quiet library filled with unspoken possibilities.

And then he leaned in.

The kiss was tentative at first, a gentle exploration filled with the hope and curiosity that had been building up over your shared laughter and late-night study sessions. As his lips brushed against yours, the world seemed to stand still. It felt like the climax of a romantic movie—two unlikely characters drawn together by the most unexpected circumstances, finding a connection they never knew was possible.

When you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, you knew that this moment would redefine everything. Mingyu’s expression shifted from the playful, buoyant energy that was so familiar to him to an earnest vulnerability that left you speechless.

With newfound determination, you guided his hand back to where you had left off. As his fingers traced the sensitive folds of your skin, you couldn't help but moan in delight. He teased and pleasured you until your body was quivering with anticipation.  Just as you were about to reach your peak, Mingyu gently turned you around and lowered you onto one of the library tables. The bookshelves loomed over you, their silent pages bearing witness to your stolen passion. Mingyu entered you slowly and deliberately, his every thrust setting off fireworks within your body.  You cried out in ecstasy as he filled you completely. Your nails dug into his back as he pounded into you, his hips moving in a rhythmic dance that sent shockwaves through both of you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer until you could feel every inch of his hardness within you.  The climax hit you both like a tidal wave. You screamed out in pleasure as Mingyu's seed erupted deep inside of you, mingling with your own sweet fluids. He collapsed on top of you, exhausted but still buzzing with the afterglow of your shared passion.  As you lay there entwined in each other's arms, you realized that your hidden love for Mingyu had blossomed into something more profound. It was a love that transcended the confines of the library and the boundaries of your wildest dreams.  With the first glimmer of dawn, Mingyu helped you to your feet and kissed you softly. 'I never would have imagined this,' he whispered, his voice filled with wonder. 'But I'm so glad it happened.'  You smiled up at him, your heart filled with a joy that you had never known. 'Me too, Mingyu,' you replied. 'Me too.' 

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fromis comeback !

#seventeen #kpop #svt #seventeen mingyu #seventeen x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu fic #mingyu smut #mingyu x y/n #kpop x reader

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thesaart · 5 months ago

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Guide to Fall

You can find the artworks for Sparkle and Giovanni here Guide to Tears Guide to Laughter Finally finished Sampo for the Guide to.. designs or the "What if the mask fools were puppet/doll creatures?" As well as with the Sparkle and Giovanni artworks this one was a lot of fun but also a bit more challenging for me. I knew that from all of them I wanted Sampo to be way more clown-like and the puppet/doll inspiration for him was those old fabric dolls where the limbs are tied together with string to give the doll joints. The challenging part for me came from putting all of this together in a way that also fits with Sampo. Similar to the other two Sampo was once an animal that Aha morphed into something resembling a human but leaving a type of hunger in all of them. Giovanni craves the light of peoples enjoyment and laughter, Sparkle seeks the chaos that can be created by fucking with how stories are supposed to go and Sampo wants to witness what people are willing to do for their belives and/or desires. However from the three he was the only one that broke out of what he was meant to be. The strings once pulled by something else, now laying in his hands as well. The Guide to fall, a Jester who spent his entire life learning what others want, what others would do anything for. The control that was once wielded over his head, still there but now he can see the movement of the puppeteer.

#honkai star rail #hsr fanart #hsr sampo #honkai star rail sampo #sampo koski #sampo fanart #hsr masked fools

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covetyou · 6 months ago

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for one night only

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Frankie Morales x fat contortionist f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: Oral sex, face fucking 👀, fingering, addiction, minor mention of clowns (no descriptions, mentioned very briefly), drug use (not Frankie, minor mention), squirting, slightly subby Frankie. word count: 4.5k summary: Frankie Morales has a problem. Not the drink. Or the drugs. Frankie Morales has a problem saying no. One night only, one night only… In the morning this feeling will be gone It has no chance going on

A/N: I feel like one of those ao3 notes where the author is like "soz this took 4 years to update, my whole family died and then I had to move country 12 times, and now I live on the moon and have to send all updates down to earth via the postal sysem", but my dog was diagnosed with a heart murmur on Tuesday (on Catfish Day, no less!) and then on Wednesday I was cranked open and scraped out, because I have the luck of beign born with a cervix. Neither of those things are good conditions to write smut under, I've found out, least of all when it's also the hottest days of the year so far.

So, here we are, 2 days late, and I'm not asking for forgiveness or apologising, I just really like to complain and make lighthearted jokes over serious things to make myself feel better. happiest belated Catfish Day, pocket pals 💛

same reader character as in jester little bit more 👀 this story continues in fools just wanna have fun (Dieter x reader) and family friendly (Frankie x Reader [x Dieter])

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future work

From the moment Will proposed it three weeks ago, Frankie knew tonight was going to be a stupid idea. Still, here he was, walking into the fucking circus of all places, staring at a glowing sign that was taunting him with the words he'd told himself every time he'd ever gave in to the temptation of booze or coke.

For one night only.

Seven months of sobriety didn't make that temptation go away, and even though this was his longest stint clean in some time, today was not the day to be pushing himself. Work had exhausted him and tested his patience to the extreme, and now he was spending his one free evening in a place that was more overwhelming than it could ever be enjoyable.

It's not that his friends weren't helping, either. They were trying, just like Frankie was trying to enjoy himself, hoping each time they asked him if he was doing okay that it would suddenly be true. But the smell of beer and the press of warm bodies against his as they shuffled into the Big Top made him feel less and less in control as time went on.

It didn't get better from there.

In the Big Top, somewhere between the chaos and the elegance, and back to chaos again, he'd lost himself in it all - that was until he was distracted by a distinct smell brought into the big top by a troupe of clowns that he knew would lead him nowhere good.

That nowhere good turned out to be a shitty looking trailer half covered by a tarp, with "Bravo"scrawled on the door in sharpie. If you'd asked him how he got here, he wouldn't exactly know - he just knew it involved hearing a name, lying to his friends about needing the bathroom, and sneaking away while they were distracted by a sideshow game he had no interest in.

He knew the road he was heading down. That for one night only sign burning in his mind as he stood there, fighting a war inside his own head.

Then, like an angel covered in soft furnishings, you'd turned up, dumping blankets with an oomph onto a cart behind him, wearing what looked to be nothing more than a t-shirt and sandals as you turned to look at him, took one look at the twitching in his hand and the hesitation in his body before you told him he didn't want what was on the other side of that door.

And Frankie knew you were right.

You were the most right thing he'd seen all day. So, when you beckoned him, he obeyed, following behind you like a starving puppy as you led the way through the mess of trailers, to what must have been your own.

He'd watched as you climbed the steps ahead of him, sequinned ass on display with each step upwards, watching it sway and jiggle as you ascended, only pulling his eyes away when you turned and looked down on him with a knowing look.

That's how he found himself here. Surrounded by soft things and delicate lighting. Away from one kind of temptation but sat right in front of another, watching as you grip the edge of your t-shirt, pulling it high enough that he can see a strip of your belly as you gesture back to those impossibly short shorts.

"Do you mind if I...?"

Frankie nods, waving his hand and stuttering over too many words as he tries, and fails, to be unaffected by you and what he can only imagine you'd feel like beneath his hands.

"No, sure, fine. Uh. Go ahead."

You laugh as you start to undress, letting your t-shirt fall to cover you once more. He watches you peel those too tight shorts down your legs, grunting with the effort as they roll and pinch against your thighs. Your skin bulges and ripples as they roll down your legs, and Frankie can think of nothing but sinking his itching fingers into your soft skin and anchoring them there as he dives head first into the place hidden just beyond the hem of your shirt.

"You made the right choice, y'know. I'm much more interesting than what Bravo the Clown has to offer," you say with a wink, catching him watching you just as your shorts pool at your feet and you step out of them. "He might have his head up his ass, but his head can't touch his ass like mine can. Tea?"

With a nod, Frankie watches as you move to the kitchen - a small counter with a water kettle and some mugs, and not much else - before you call back to him.

"You can get comfortable too, if you want."

And so he does, pulling off his hat first, before unbuckling his belt and tugging it from his pants with a sigh.

When you come back, you hand him a mug, which he accepts with a thank you before gripping the burning ceramic hard in his hand, rubbing his other along the rough fabric of his jeans.

"You need a distraction," you say, with a nod to the mug burning his palm. "What do you usually do when... y'know?"

"Keep busy, usually," Frankie says, looking down at his hand, flexing it until the sting subsides.

"Let's find you something to focus on then. An activity. Something good."

Frankie's mind immediately goes where he knows it shouldn't. You'd seen him struggle, and you'd helped him, the least he could do was keep it in his pants and his mind out of the gutter.

But then, when you sit down opposite him, crossing your legs as you take a sip of your own tea, all he can see is the gusset of your panties, and he knows he's ruined. He doesn't even try to hide his cock as it hardens in his jeans each moment he spends looking at you, so casual and relaxed in this space you brought him to.

You know, of course. If he was paying even a bit of attention to what your own eyes were doing, he'd see that you're well aware of the affect you're having on him. Since he looked up at you from the steps, part of you had been working out how you'd get him beneath you again, and now it was looking like all you'd need to do was snap your fingers and all your dreams would come true.

Some might say that would be manipulative. The man needed a calm place to be for a little while, and you were happy to provide it, no payment necessary. But, with the way he was looking at you, pleading with those beautiful brown eyes - combined with the shockwaves sent to your cunt every time his voice rumbled from his chest - it was clear you were both fighting a losing battle against something much better to give in to than whatever quick fix Dieter could rustle up.

A blaring ring of a phone pulls you both out of your thoughts, and he scrambles for his pocket, pulling out a battered looking phone with a crack across the screen and pressing it to his ear.

"Hey, man," he says into the phone, not meeting your eye.

Here, in the quiet oasis of your trailer, with nothing but the distant tinkle of music to disturb the peace, you can hear every word from the other end of the line clear as day.

"Fish, where the hell are you?"

And now, maybe it is manipulative of you to stretch to put your mug down on the counter, drawing his eyes back to you.

"Uh, just had to get away."

When your fingers slowly drag up your thighs, tugging the hem of your shirt upwards and over your panties, you don't miss the way his throat bobs in a heavy swallow, his eyes going glassy as he tries to focus on the voice practically screaming down the line over the noise of carnival music and chattering crowds.

"You back at the van?"

And maybe the leg you put on the coffee table is a little unnecessary, but it works. Soon his eyes are drawn down to between your thighs, and the small scrap of fabric covering you that he'd been trying so desperately not to look at.

"No, no. I had to -" you draw your shirt a little higher, the soft pooch of your belly and the waistband of your panties now on show for him. "- mierda. Just some place quiet. It's chaos out there."

"We can leave, hermano. I told you, you never have to force yourself through this shit. You want out, we're out."

Your hands continue up, and up, pulling your shirt with them and then, just when your breasts threaten to spill out of the bottom of it, you let go, stretching your arms high above your head with a smile.

"Hello? Fish? Catfish? You're worrying me, man. Where are you?"

Raising your eyebrow, with one last ace up your sleeve, you let your thigh fall to the side, and watch the entire house of cards come falling down.

"I gotta go."

"Fra -"

"I'll text you."

The line goes dead, and Frankie quickly taps out a message in hopes to keep Santi quiet for at least a little while. When his phone is face down on the seat beside him, he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding and rubs his hands on his rough jeans once more.

"So, Fish," you start, drawing his attention back to you, where you sit tracking your fingertips slowly up and down yourself. "Think of anything fun we could do?"

With a sly smile, biting your lip, you shuffle your hips forward. No sooner are the tips of your fingers dipping below the elastic of your panties, and he's up, out of his seat.

And straight on the floor in front of you, having taken one big step over the coffee table to get to you before wedging himself between your spread legs. And fuck does he want to touch - dive right in and feast - but instead he sits back on his haunches, staring up at you from his position on his knees, looking absolutely wrecked.

"That what you want, pretty boy?" you say, as he wipes one hand across his chin, the other balling into a fist in his lap.

He's nervous. Impulsive, sure, but hesitant. So, you reach for his hand before it falls to join his other in his lap, and press it into the soft meat of your thigh, squeezing down, before releasing and letting him take the reins.

His exploration is tentative, at first. Soft sweeps of his hand from your knee to your hip, and back again. Watching up at you as you relax down into the cushions around you, sighing and smiling each time his hands trace a new patch of you and light it on fire.

When his other hand joins the first, taking its place on your other thigh, you whisper breathy words of encouragement to him - words that sound so loud in his ears but he knows are barely audible above the sound of his own heavy breathing.

That's all he needs to start pressing his mouth to your bare skin. Kisses to your inner knee, small nibbles to the swell of your thigh. Each and every press of his mouth is met with a giggle - his facial hair tickling your delicate skin.

"I see he called you Catfish," you say through another giggle as his kisses move higher, following the trail of his hands.

"Yeah?" he says, his breath ghosting your thigh, smiling as you giggle again. And fuck, even if he never gets any higher than this, no closer to salvation than right here, the bulge of your thighs in his grip, this would be distraction enough to fight through fifty more bad days.

"It's the whiskers, isn't it?" you ask, laughing again when he scratches his beard lightly on your inner thigh.

But then, he's face-to-face with the tiny scrap of fabric covering you - so much smaller than he expected when he was sat staring from the other side of your trailer - looking up at you now that you're quiet, giggles subsided but one brewing just beneath the surface.

"Or," you start, as you reach down for his face, dragging your thumb across the swell of his plush bottom lip. "Or it's because you're a bottom feeder. Catfish by name, catfish by nature."

A soft kiss to your cunt over your panties comes before you even finish your taunt, and you find yourself groaning out his bizarre name not once, but twice as he cuts you off each time. Not that you mind, of course, and he doesn't seem to either. Each moan you make makes him press deeper and deeper kisses to you, until he's dragging his mouth up and down the seam of your clothed pussy, desperately trying to taste you.

Your cunt, as desperate to get to him as he is to her, throbs, trickling slick as he mouths at you, teasing your clit with nudges of his nose. And then he's licking you - not where you want him, but near enough, as he licks a soft stripe up one side of your cunt then the other, tasting your skin where your panties don't quite cover.

What you really want is to tear your underwear off and let him devour you, but you don't. That would mean pushing him away, and he's far too lost in it for you to even want to attempt it. So, instead, you reach down and yank the thin fabric to the side just as he takes another soft bite of your thigh, and delight in his gasp when he takes his first proper look at you.

"Oh, shit."

Whatever restraint he was showing before flies right out of the window when he can finally see your pussy. He dives in, tonguing your entrance, tasting every drop of arousal he's pulled from you since he started his teasing. Within a few licks, you've slouched further down the bench, spreading your thighs wider as his hands wrap around them and pin you down.

You feel better than he could imagine. Your thighs are thick and plush - the fat of them easily gripped and kneaded in his palms as he messily eats you, pressing his tongue into your hole only to feel you clench around him.

It doesn't get any less messy, or more refined, as he laps at you. It's like he's ravenous, and maybe he is, but it's too much, too fast, too soon, and not enough all at once.

"Slow," you gasp, rocking your hips, hoping he'll get the picture. And, to his credit, he does. He pulls back, looking between your furrowed brows and the wet mess he's licked over your cunt, and instead takes a slow swipe from your hole to your clit.

"That's it," you moan as his tongue teases around you. He avoids your sensitive nub for a few strokes, choosing instead to circle it, to tease you. But then his broad circles swirl tighter and tighter until you're groaning out into the tiny space. "Right there. You've got it. Oh, fuck."

Frankie moans right back. He's like a rock in his own pants, so hard it's bordering on painful, but he can't bring himself to pull a hand away from you to adjust himself. Instead, he uses his finger tips to pry you open a little, spreading your slit wide for him to lick into before focussing back on your clit and slipping a finger easily inside you.

This is how you're going to come. Onto this beautiful mans tongue, his fingers buried inside you, your t-shirt rucked up higher and higher by your own hands, fingers pinching your own nipples, head thrown back.

"Fuck, so close."

He groans, nodding into your cunt, his tongue swiping up and down on your clit with each bob of his head. And he looks beautiful doing it - eyes screwed shut as he moans and whines into your pussy, wanting nothing more than to please you, planting a delicious seed in your mind as he gets more and more desperate to make you come.

"Give me another finger, pretty boy," you ask, biting back a good boy when he slips a second thick digit into your fluttering pussy.

Reaching down, you stroke his face, pulling his attention up to you as you thread your fingers through his messy hair while he laps and suckles away at your clit, fingers pumping shallowly inside you.

"You want me to use that pretty mouth?" you ask, and the groan he gives you in return almost sets you off then and there.

"Oh fuck, that's good. That's good," you pant, taking a deep breath to try to hold back your rapidly approaching orgasm. "Stick out that tongue for me, pretty boy."

Frankie, ever the obedient little thing, sticks out his tongue for you, groaning when you slip a finger across the wet muscle and into his mouth, letting him suck on it for a little before swiping it across your own clit.

"Keep it out for me."

"Uh-huh."

You tug him closer, scratching gently at his scalp when his tongue slides against your pussy, before holding him in place.

"That's it. Keep it out. You're going to make me come, pretty boy. Keep those fingers right there too. Don't you dare take them out."

The look in his eyes tells you everything you need to know right then. This is exactly what he needed, the perfect antidote to his seemingly inevitable downward spiral. He looks entirely fucked out - face a mess, lips swollen, facial hair drenched in saliva and your own slick. Then, with a small nod of his head, you start to move, rocking gently against his face at first, before you pick up the pace.

You're not sure you've felt anything better. His fingers are deep and he's curling them inside you over and over, pressing against a spongy spot you're all too familiar with. You're grinding your clit against his tongue - using his whole face to get yourself off, alternating between the smooth slick swipe of his tongue before the rough scratch of his facial hair briefly catches your clit, and back, over and over. It's driving you insane. You're driving yourself insane, but you can't - won't - stop. How could you when he's panting, practically sobbing into your pussy, as you use him.

Now, you really are going to come. You rock against his face more rapidly, movements more precise now, fucking yourself onto his fingers and grinding your clit into his tongue, fingers tugging and pulling at his hair.

Then, your back is arching off the bench, a loud, keening groan leaving you, your fingers twitching and releasing from his hair, your hips stuttering as it all gets too much. Anyone else, any other day, and this would have spelled a ruined orgasm for you and a terrible nights sleep. But Frankie doesn't let up. Your fingers release him and he continues, nodding his own face against you exactly as you liked it, fingers curling, and curling, and curling so wetly inside you you're sure you're going to burst.

Until you do. You convulse there right on the bench, clit twitching against Frankie's tongue as you gush against his fingers, his chin, coming so hard you're sure you've left the atmosphere.

It's only when your voice finally comes back to you, your silent orgasm all but wrung out of you, that you tell him to stop - practically beg him - and collapse back into the cushion, still twitching.

Frankie sits between your legs, pressing feather light kisses to your mound, as you come down. He looks so peaceful there, between your thick thighs, soothing himself with your body while he ignores his own aching cock.

"What's your real name, pretty boy?" you ask with a lazy smile, swiping your thumb across his chin and the wetness still glistening there.

"Francisco. Frankie. It's Frankie," he mumbles into your leg, finally shifting to alleviate some of the strain in his jeans.

"Come up here and kiss me, Frankie."

On aching knees, Frankie pulls himself up. He moves to hover over you, to hold himself off of you in case he gets carried away, but you pull him down, pressing your mouth to his and tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Mhm. You want a hand with that, Frankie?" you ask, feeling the solid length now pushing into your thigh through his jeans.

"Wanna fuck you," he gasps into your mouth, rutting and grinding forward as you scrape blunt nails up his back.

And it makes you freeze. Frankie, in that moment, is certain he's fucked up. That's not what this is.

But then he hears you curse softly under your breath, looking over to a cabinet as you try to wrack your brain for when you last restocked your stash of condoms. Too fucking long ago, is the only answer that comes to mind, and you're certain you don't have any.

"I don't have any fucking condoms - goddamnit," you say with a pained sigh, trying to stop tears of frustration pricking in your eyes. You want it too. If the bulge in his pants is anything to go by, you'd have the time of your life riding him straight through till morning.

"But we can do something else?" you say, hopeful that he doesn't want to go just yet as you reach down and start stroking him over his pants. "I think I owe you that much."

Fuck does it feel good, having your hand stroke him. He wants nothing more than to say yes - not to cash in on what he's owed, but because you feel so damn good. Still, he knows it wouldn't be enough. He'd had enough tragic experiences and fumbles in the past few months that he knew the only way he was getting off was from his own hand or by fucking hard into something soft and wet, or he wasn't coming at all.

"No," he says softly, kissing you again and shifting his hips back from your grip. "No, it's okay. And, I'm not - shit - don't feel guilty, I'm not trying to do that, I'm just - it's just - uh - fuck - it's difficult. For me to, uh..."

You lay a comforting hand on his side as he trails off. "It's okay."

If your own shame had ever taught you anything, you know he's about to apologise for something that doesn't need an apology.

"Can I show you something cool, Frankie?" you say instead, cutting him off before he could let the shame eat at him.

Frankie nods, and lets you gently push him back and off the bench seat you're both awkwardly lying on.

Hauling yourself up, you reach for something under the bench closest to the end of your trailer, and pull, throwing all your weight back until the bench is shifting forward and a hidden piece of the puzzle is pulling up and out, where you can push it down onto the coffee table.

You climb onto it then - the pillows and blankets making so much sense now that he sees this is your bed - and pull a cord on the ceiling, letting it rattle and shift until there's a soft clunk.

"Come here."

Frankie follows, wary of the stability of the whole thing only for a second, climbing up behind you as you lay down. Sitting beside you, he follows your eyes up and up until they reach the ceiling.

Only, there isn't one. Instead, what he's faced with is a window to the endless sky, lit with streaks of light bouncing off of clouds, turning them a rainbow of colors as they shift and sway.

"This is what I do when everything feels too much," you say, looking straight up into the night sky. Frankie lies beside you then, looking up into the abyss alongside you in that tiny space.

"I lie here for long enough that all the big and overwhelming things feel small again. Something about looking out into the universe really puts stuff into perspective, y'know?"

"I think I do," he says with a smile, just as your hand finds his arm.

You lie there together for a little while. Talking a little, but mostly just looking out into the sky, occasionally remarking on the shapes of the circus lights beaming into the heavens.

"Fuck," You say suddenly, and Frankie turns to see you pressing your hands into your eyes, blocking any view of the sky above as you lie together in your trailer. "Fuck."

"You okay?" he says, worried that he's over stepped his mark, stayed too long and made a weird thing weirder just by sticking around.

But then you're pouncing on him, pushing him back into your bed, and latching onto his mouth in a feverish kiss. It's all you can do to not rub your bare cunt on his jeans in desperation for more, because that's just it. You want more, condoms be damned.

"What if," you say between kisses, "I could get condoms - what if - I could grab some right now - do you - do you wanna...?"

Frankie thinks it's the most obvious thing in the world - he is, after all, still rock solid in his pants. No amount of staring at the night sky seems to be making it go away. In fact, he's just got harder and harder since laying down with you and having your hands dance delicate patterns onto his bare arms.

His hands find your ass, pulling you further into him, dragging your leg over his own and your cunt along his thigh, making you grind down into him and moan into his mouth. He doesn't exactly have words for how much he wants it, just that he knows he's as desperate for it as he was to be buried face first between your thighs. So, he groans back, your hand finding a perfect spot on the crotch of his jeans, rubbing and kneading the solid lump of his cock through the denim.

"S'that a yes?" you mumble, and as you pull away, staring into the wrecked glazed eyes of one another, you both laugh, catching each others mouths in another hurried kiss.

"It's a hell fucking yes, hermosa."

At that, you dart up. Or you try to, at least. It's more of an awkward roll and a flop as you try to pull your leg from Frankie without causing any damage, before you crawl off the end of the bed and grab for your shirt and those tiny panties again - wherever the fuck they are. Balance should be your thing, but right now as you're frantically shoving clothes on, anyone would think you didn't do this for a living.

"Wait here," you pant, hopping into your shoes. "I will be right back."

And as you leave the trailer, the door slamming behind you as you practically run away into the night, Frankie thinks of how lucky he is to have found salvation in a place like this - a soft little oasis amidst so much chaos.

this story continues in fools just wanna have fun (Dieter x reader) and family friendly (Frankie x Reader [x Dieter])

tags: @beefrobeefcal @schnarfer @for-a-longlongtime

#frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #frankie 'catfish' morales x you #frankie 'catfish' morales x reader #frankie morales #dieter bravo #triple frontier fanfiction #fic: carnal-val #coveted fics

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alexa-fika · 11 days ago

Note

This idea is living in my mind rent free and won't leave me alone!

So Roger pirates (also young shanks and buggy) x puppet!child!f!reader.

Can you do some lyrics from the song "Puppet boy?"

Reader is from a circus, a dangerous one. The Ringmaster has a power where he can control people like puppets and most of the performers are adults who don't get in the way but the ringmaster prefers reader and controls the most in stunts and performances and very dangerous ones, even for adults, like flying trapeze in a very high hight with no support and other crazy things. The audience members don't sense anything only seeing the reader as talented. They don't see reader controlled as the puppet strings are invisible to them. Roger pirates was visiting an Island, saw that s huge event at a circus and decided to go. They see reader who has clown makeup on their face and a circus outfits preforming with adults in VERY dangerous acts. The circus decide to take a quick break to set up for the new act and the ringmaster wants a talk with reader. Reader has to do every dangerous stunt on her own with no help to gain more money for the circus.

Roger pirates save her from the circus and set the performers free. You can add how they save her and how'd they know that she was being controlled. I want an very actiony,angsty thing, if it's alright.

Thank you

The apprentices apprentice (Roger pirates x child!reader)

Ps mad and throwing a tantrum cause tumblr just deleted my draft. ANYWAY GUYS FINALLY I FINISHED IT, there are some parts im still hesitant about but other than that I think I like this one. I’m not good with action so let me know what you think; also tell me why it wasen’t until now that I saw the end of the request like it din’t register on my brain until now so HERES YOUR ACTION ANGSTY PIECE, TOTALLY HAS ACTION AND ANGST BECAUSE YOU ASKED FOR IT AND NOT BY ACCIDENT 😀Another also! I was writing this at work so at first I was just looking at the lyrics and I was like ‘okay this must have a really melancholic sound’ tell me why the somg is so upbeat 😂

Execution scene…

This piece has one line that hints to having at least medium length hair, if this does not fit you you can always imagine it is a wig as I made sure it wasen’t explicit that it was their hair or you can also take it as their hijab being arranged rather than hair

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics and @/drinkthesky

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese for my ease lf writing and the enjoyment of oc readers

The man behind the child let out a hum as he looked at the mirror and tried different hairstyles on them.

“Perhaps we should do a half-up-down style; what do you think, dear?

“…”

“Aww, come on, don’t tell me you are still throwing a tantrum?” He teased looking down at them

“Well, dear, if you weren’t so stubborn, I wouldn’t have to hurt you the way I do; it is quite simple,” he carelessly added as he continued working on their hair, eventually turning them around to begin working on their make-up.

“Oh, how I wish you didn’t make me have to punish you; now look, your skin is all stained. That’s alright, nothing some makeup can’t cover, right?” he spoke as he forcefully pulled their chin up and began to apply powder on their face paying extra attention to the dark bruises that litter their face

“You will do today’s show without any nets or supports,” he informed them.

“W-What?”

“Don’t move.” He sneered as his words caused the small child to flinch back

“Don’t act so surprised, dear; the audience paid a lot to watch you, so it’s only fair to have something at stake.”

“B-But what if I fall?” They cried, slapping his hands away as they jumped off the chair

“Enough.” He growled making, putting his hand out and wiggling his finger in a ‘come here motion’ a dark grin growing on his face as they were pulled towards him as he did

“You seem to be really defiant lately. Do you want the strings to come back? Perhaps I was too benevolent in giving you free will,” he sneered

“Well? Do you?!” He boomed

“No!” She cried

“Good. Next time, I won’t be as nice,” he said, walking out of the room and glancing back at the crying child on the floor.

“Enough with the tears. Your makeup will get damaged. Get ready for the show; you will be out in a few minutes.”

They sighed, looking at themselves in the mirror, trying to calm the erratic beating of their hearts at the stunts they were forced to do minutes before. Eventually, a few sniffles escaped them, sniffles turning into small hiccups and small hiccups turning into a cascade of tears as the events of the day began to catch up to them.

“Wait, Buggy, you idiot!”

It wasn’t until the sound of something crashing behind them that they were pulled out of their spiral and stared at the two boys standing there.

“Me?! You were the one that shoved me!” A voice cried

“Did not”

“Ye-

“Who are you?” The child asked, staring wide-eyed at the couple of teens bickering in front of them

“Sorry to barge in, we just were looking around,” the redhead answered, turning his attention from his friend to them.

“You can’t be ere!” they hissed.

“I know, I know, this is backstage, but we wanted to see what it was like. Buggy here was really impressed by your act, so we wanted to take a peak.”

“I was not!” the red-nose boy protested, shooting up.

“No! No! You can’t be ere!” Dokucha cried, jumping down from the chair

“Hey, Hey, it’s okay. We were just leaving,” Shanks assures them with an easy smile on his face despite having been caught.

“N-

“Dokucha!” A voice angrily boomed

“Ah!” the child looked at the sound of the voice with a terrified look on their and back to the two boys, quickly running towards them and pulling them to a nearby closet, ignoring the confused protests of the two.

“H-Hey!”

“Shhh!” they called, closing the door just in time for the ringmaster to storm in

“Wha- Agh!” they cried as the man sent them flying back with a punch to their face. A livid expression on their face as they did

The child looked up at the man, holding their cheek in pain as they did; despite this not being a to them, it did not make this treatment any easier on the child.

“R-Ringmaster?” they questioned

“You useless brat!” he growled, kicking them back and watching as the child crashed against the masts of the tent at his actions.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I can make it better, please!”

“You think I didn’t notice?! What have I told you about hesitating when making your jumps, you worthless piece of shit!”

Tears started to fall from Dokucha’s eyes as they slowly picked themselves up, looking up at the monster in front of them.

“P-Please, I wasn’t h-

“Shut up,” He roared.

“It’s obvious I was too lenient on you in giving you some kind of free will; it’s time you remember your place,” he muttered, a dark look growing on his face as he snapped his fingers. He grinned, satisfied at the child’s cries as they were pulled into the air, strings slowly enveloping their bodies.

Ignoring the cries and pleas of the child, he tightened his hand into a fist, watching as the strings seemed to follow their lead as they painfully tightened against the child until they began digging into their skin.

It was their cries that prevented the ringmaster from hearing the scuffle that seemed to occur behind him as this went on. As a livid Shanks started struggling against Buggy, who held the teen back from storming into the scene

“Buggy, we have to do something,” he growled, struggling against his friend’s holds.

“I know, idiot! But look, the guy is a devil-fruit user, a strong one!” Buggy hissed with terrified tears pooling in his eyes at the terrifying scene they had found themselves in

“He’s going to kill them!”

“And us if we run in there!” Buggy shot back

“So what we just watch as he kills they bleed to death?!” he hissed, breaking free from his friend’s hold and turning towards him.

“N-No! I sent a hand to fetch the captain; we have to wait until they get here!”

“They don’t have that kind of time, Buggy!”

“Just wait, you moron!”

Before Shanks could throw another retort toward his crewmate, loud bangs and screams rang outside of the tent, something that the ringmaster also took notice of. As he let out a few curses as he gave one last look at the child and made his way out of the tent to investigate the commotion.

“They’re here!” Buggy exclaimed with a relieved smile

Not a second later, the two pushed their way out of the closet and ran towards the child, who by now had fallen unconscious, no doubt due to the amount of blood that slowly trickled from their body and down the strings that held them up in a morbid resemblance to a fly trapped in a spider’s web.

Pulling out his throwing knives, Buggy made quick work of the strings, watching as the child fell into Shanks’s awaiting hands as he ran next to the redhead to check on the child.

“H-Hey, are they d-dead?” he questioned, looking down at the child.

“H-Hey! Wake up! Hey!” Shanks cried, trying to shake awake the lifeless body of the child

“Now then, what have you lads gotten yourselves into?” A voice cut into as they walked into the tent, interrupting the teens fretting over the child

“Captain!” Buggy cried, looking at the man at the door of the tent

“Captain! Please! Help!” Shanks begged, looking up at his captain, terrified as he hugged Dokucha’s body closer to them

Roger stared at his apprentices agape, quickly taking in the scene in front of him as he hurried towards them.

“Crocus! Get in here!” he hollered.

It had been a week since those events took place; since then, Crocus had managed to save the child but was unsuccessful in pulling them out of the unconscious state they had been placed in. According to the Doctor, it was likely they had fallen into a comma as a response their body had to the stress undergone due to the torturous treatment at the hands of the ringmaster.

After they had been stabilized, the crew had another problem on their hands; their interference in the circus had caught the attention of the marines, and as such, they needed to set sail. The original plan was to leave the child under the care of the now-freed performers and set off; this, however, did not go as planned. Much to the crew’s surprise, the two apprentices had begged their captain to bring Dokucha along rather than leave them behind at the circus.

Some crew members objected to this idea, concerned with the child’s well-being if they were to be brought upon the ship. Unlike when the two current apprentices were taken in, the crew now sailed more dangerous waters with perilous missions, enemies, and much higher notoriety than a decade prior.

Roger, ever having a soft spot for children, agreed to the teen’s requests under the promise that they had to take part in the caring for the child, something the two had agreed to in an instant. It was clear to the crew that the apprentices had developed a bond with the small child, perhaps reminded of their own origins when they were brought aboard the Oro Jackson; regardless, in the past week, they had made true to their promise as the two were often found hanging on the sick bay watching for any new updates on the state of Dokucha. Despite being out of their element when they first woke up terrified and in tears against all odds, the teen had managed to assure the child, promising to remain by their side.

It had taken a few more weeks for the child to adjust to their new life and leave behind the fear that came with their old life. Still, with time, they had slowly reverted to a gleeful three-year-old once again, ready to join Shanks and Buggy in any mischievous adventures the two went on.

“Who’s that?” Dokucha questioned from their position on Buggy’s lap as both him Shanks sat with them on the Deck of the ship as they scanned over a piece of Newspaper

“They are a bunch of nobodies!” Buggy sneered, watching as the Whitebeard pirates had once again taken over the headline of the newspaper

Dokucha looked up at the paper once again, a grin on their face as they took the picture of the pirates in

“They look pretty cool!”

“That’s what they want you to think, Dokucha! They may look cool, but they are nothing compared to us.” Buggy Boasted

“Yes! Cause Roger pirates are the best,” they cheered.

"Dhahahaha good Job Dokucha!" Shanks grinned as he stood up, throwing the child in the air and causing them to let out gleeful squeals at the action.

“Still, what a bummer, those guys are getting all the glory,” he stated as he put Dokucha on his hip and continued to Scan the newspaper, only for it to be snatched from his hands.

“A samurai, huh?” their captain laughed.

“I would love to meet this them!” he exclaimed

“Capi!” Dokucha cheered, extending their arms towards the man, laughing as he complied with their silent request and grabbed them from Shanks

“Hey there, champ!” he exclaimed, lifting them up in the air.

“How are you feeling today? What are you up to with the lads?”

“I’m good! Shanks-nii and Buggy-nii are showing me the whybear pirates.” They grinned.

“Whitebeard,” Scoffed out with a snicker.

“Whitebeard!” they parroted

“Wahahahaha! I’m glad you’re in good spirits today!” he called, putting them down and watching as they ran their way back to Buggy, hugging their leg happily and letting out a giggle as the clown picked them up and placed them on his hip as he made silly faces to the child.

“Where are we heading now, Captain?” Shanks questioned

“We’re on the way to a nearby summer Island. I have received reports of the Whitebeard crew being spotted close. It will be the perfect chance to meet this Samurai fellow!”

“We’re going to meet the Wildboars?!” Dokucha called excitedly

Shanks sighed, giving up on correcting them and pulling on the cheek of the child.

“Dokucha, you have to stay next to us, okay? I don’t trust those guys!”

“Okey! Shanks-nii!” they whined, slapping his hand away with a frown, promptly being replaced by a smile.

“But it’s okay cause Capi and brothers are gonna be there!” they cheered.

"Wahahaha! That's right Dokucha! Just stay near us and everything will be fine!"

“Yes Capi!”

Okay yes that last part highkey dosen’t fit the whole action pace of the story and much less the narration that followed after but listen I could not in good conscience not add wholesomeness! I couldn’t, just lil Dokucha hanging from shank’s hip or cuddle in his lap as he read or Buggy’s faces to make them laugh 🥹 and omg the capi, im so smart yall 🤭

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162

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discordantwritings · 1 year ago

Text

Rock Hard (Rock Band!Cross Guild x Reader)

Part 1. Prelude

Prelude // The Vocalist // The Guitarist // The Drummer

Warnings: Slightly suggestive but that’s it for this first part!

WC: 2.6k

Summary: The Cross Guild is the newest rock band to hit the music scene and it’s three controversial members need a manager. That’s where you come in.

Notes: Part 1/5 of the rock band cross guild au is here. Nothing spicy in this part this is all just getting to know The Boys but do not fret, everything else will be just so much smut. This part has some similarities to my other cross guild fic but after this it’ll be a whole lot different trust me!

When The Cross Guild dropped their first single the music industry got turned upside down. A band consisting of three musicians who had been kicked out of the music label giant- Marines.

The lead singer was Buggy. Labeled an ICP wannabe by haters and the best clown ever by fans the flashy vocalist aimed to get a strong reaction- good or bad. Even if his wild style wasn’t for you no one could deny he was talented, which is what kept him with Marines for so long despite his many many controversies. Wild parties, fraternizing with fans, throwing knives at haters- if there was something crazy you could come up with Buggy probably did it. But somehow he always came out on top. You thought his string of diving consequences was over once he got kicked from Marines for good and had his band taken away but clearly you were wrong.

The second member was the world renowned guitarist, Dracule Mihawk. If you ask anyone who the best guitarist in the world was chances are the answer will be this man. Years of skill and talent pour through his long pale fingers every time he is on stage. But he’s not on stage very often. Coming in and out of retirement at the pestering of Marines- some remnants of a contract made long long ago- he graces the stage maybe once a year, shows everyone he hasn’t lost any of his skill, and retreats to his remote mansion. No one is sure why he got fired from Marines, but it was the same time that Buggy (and, significantly less importantly, you) got let go.

The last member was someone no one even knew played an instrument- Crocodile. Crocodile was infamous in the music industry. He produced the hit band Baroque Works under the Marines label until it all came crumbling down. There are thousands of rumors about what happened but all of them say that Crocodile was, in some form, stealing money out from under the label for himself. Baroque Works was broken up and Crocodile was fired but no charges were ever pressed against him. No one had thought about him for years until he appeared suddenly as the drummer for The Cross Guild.

All three of them were large personalities and with a history of not being team players the fact that their first song was actually really damn good was surprising. You didn’t consider yourself a huge rock fan but you couldn’t help but play the song on repeat. The drum beat was hypnotizing, the guitar melody filled you with energy, and Buggy’s vocals had you humming along and dancing in your room.

It helped your enjoyment of their music that The Cross Guild’s mission statement of sorts was to stick it to Marines. All three had some sort of grudge with that label and you did to. Of course you hadn’t been high up at all- just an assistant manager to one of the smaller bands- but you got fired in the same massive wave that had gotten Buggy and Mihawk. You never did anything wrong and were dumped without any warning. Living on cheap ramen for months as you scraped by on savings until you found another job filled you with an anger that gurgled up every time you heard one of Marine’s bands on the radio. But now you were given some counter to that and for that you were grateful.

All that is to say, you were a fan. So when an email pops into your inbox from Daz Bonez, the assistant to Crocodile, you nearly dropped your phone. Then as you read you’re sure you’re having some sort of vivid hallucination because it is an offer to interview for the position of manager for The Cross Guild. You never worked with any of the members when you all worked at the same label so how people like them heard of you is beyond you. After checking a dozen times that no it was not some sort of scam email you replied.

A week later you were taking an elevator up a sleek high rise to meet with The Cross Guild. It took you the whole week to pick out an outfit and the entire morning you have been willing yourself not to throw up from sheer anxiety. When the elevator doors opened you took a deep breath and centered yourself. You could do this.

You walk up to a large desk with a man you recognize- Daz, Crocodiles assistant- sitting behind it. When you walk over he stands up and greets you.

“Glad you could make it. They’re waiting for you in here.” He goes over to a door to the right of his desk and you follow a few paces behind, watching the broad man open the door and gesture for you to enter. You slide past him with a polite smile and do your best not to look star struck when you see three rock stars waiting for you.

Crocodile sits behind a large sleek desk, lit cigar in one hand while his other prosthetic hand taps on the desk. He’s dressed in the kind of outfits you always saw him wearing at the office, layers of fine fabric underneath a large fur lined coat. You wonder if he would wear the same thing on stage, or if he would strip down a few layers but you quickly cut off that line of thinking before it went too far. Three chairs are lined up across from him, two of which are occupied by his band mates. Sitting is a loose term to describe what Buggy is doing in the leftmost chair- perched would be a better term. He’s the first to acknowledge you, waving a gloved hand as you approach. He’s wearing a slightly toned down version of his stage costume, you know he always is in some sort of clown get up but it’s one thing to know and another to see a man dressed as a clown in an office building. As you approach the middle you look to your right and see Dracule Mihawk. He has on his signature long leather coat and a float white shirt underneath. You try not to stare at his slender fingers interlaced with each other in his lap as you hover behind the middle chair, slightly afraid to make eye contact with any of them.

“You can sit.” Crocodile says less as a question and more as a demand. You immediately slipped into the seat, doing your best not to shrink under his gaze.

“You worked for a few years as an assistant talent manager at Marines, yes?” Crocodile looks over a folder as he speaks to you.

“Yes I worked with The Vices for three years and floated around between bands for two years before that.” You answer, finding your rhythm and sitting up a bit straighter.

“Everyone said you did good work but you were fired. Why is that?” Crocodile finally looks you in the eyes and you feel your heart rise up to your throat.

You have a prepared answer. Creative differences, life choices, and any other neutral excuse that anyone gives as to why they got fired. But in this room, with these men, something else ends up coming out. The truth.

“I got no respect, and when I demanded it I was let go in a large wave of lay offs that they did to get rid of anyone that ever disagreed with them, even if that person was right.” You say in one breath, scared that if you stopped you’d lose your will. One of Crocodile’s eyebrows raises slightly and you can see out of the corner of your eye Mihawk sit up a bit more.

“Seems you have some opinions on Marines that we agree with.” There’s a slight tilt to his voice now, one that sheers off some of the gruffness of his tone. “I can’t say I really expected you to be so upfront but it’s a welcome surprise.”

“Did I come off as quiet?” You ask genuinely.

“A bit. But mostly people are afraid to speak ill of such a powerful company.”

“Well, I figured among the three of you with the history you all have that I didn’t have to hold back.” You’ve hit your stride now, sitting up tall and keeping eye contact with Crocodile.

“We do hate those fuckers.” Comments Buggy from your left. When you turn your head to look at him he’s staring at you, head resting on a hand propped up on the armrest. You almost lose your nerve but there’s a certain sparkle in his eye that makes you less intimidated- like you can read his temperament so readily that you would know if this was going downhill.

“Well it’s experience like yours paired with a dislike of a certain label that would make you perfect for the job.” Crocodile’s words drag your attention back to him.

“And the job being your manager.” You can’t help but confirm, a voice in the back of your head still gnawing away at your confidence.

“Yes the manager for the band. I know you don’t have direct managerial experience but you worked for a rather large band so this shouldn’t be too far of a leap outside of your knowledge.”

“And- I’m sorry can I just ask- why me? I know we all have a shared work experience but like you said, I don’t have experience managing a band on my own. I have no doubts I can do this it’s just- with star power like yours I can’t help but feel like I’m missing something here.” You certainly don’t want to end up as just a stepping stone or a fall guy, no matter how good it would look on a resume.

“To be quite honest-“ Mihawk speaks up for the first time- “Its because no high profile manager wants to work with all three of us.”

Well.

That makes sense. Considering the strong personalities and countless scandals between the three of them it’s no wonder no one wants to try and wrangle one of them- let alone all of them. You should be feeling a sense of dread over all this information, over being offered an impossible task. But instead you feel a fire inside you. You’ve been told over and over again by others (and yourself) that you couldn’t make it in the music industry and now, faced with three men who could destroy what’s left of your career or skyrocket you to the top. You’re going to take the risk.

“Alright, what are the hours and pay?” You ask with a smile. Buggy claps beside you and Crocodile gives you a wicked smile. Suddenly you get this feeling of being sized up like prey by him and while it should fill you with nervousness you can’t deny the heat that forms in your stomach at his gaze.

What follows is a few hours of paperwork and negotiation that all accumulates in more hours of work than you wanted but more pay than you could have dreamed of. A fair trade in the end, you decide as you sign off the last bits of paper making you an official employee. Trying not to feel like you just signed your soul away to the devil himself you smile wide and promise to be in bright and early the next day.

The next few weeks of your life were pure chaos. A whirlwind of learning by failing as you wrangled the three biggest personalities you had ever worked with. All of them were demanding and arrogant and frustrating that within a few days you were on the verge of quitting. But you didn’t. You buckled down, learned how each of them worked, and after a while got into a rhythm.

Make sure Buggy has enough attention and things to do so he doesn’t go searching for trouble. Make sure the music is up to Mihawk’s difficulty standards and keep the press away. And as long as all of the paperwork was turned into Crocodile on time you wouldn’t have any issues with him. It was hard work. You’d go home at crazy hours exhausted and get up way too early to start it all over again but you have to admit the work fulfilled you. You’ve been making decisions and leading in a way no job has ever let you before and you were doing a damn good job at it. And after a while those demanding, arrogant, frustrating men began to grow on you.

Buggy was fun to be around when he wasn’t whining. He helped you with press and made statements whenever you asked. Once you all got on a schedule he even stopped getting into drama, surprising everyone. Well, most drama. You didn’t miss the way his eyes would trail down your body or the way his hands would linger on you for a bit too long. A glare or two would shut him down for the moment but you found yourself not really hating it- and Buggy could probably tell. It wasn’t something you let yourself dwell on though. Buggy had quite the reputation for sleeping around so it wasn’t like you were something special.

Mihawk had been a difficult man to crack. It was hard to give him any direction at first, the man was surprisingly lazy when he wanted to be. But then you realized it was because there wasn’t anything interesting to him most days. He was a man at the top of his field so you worked hard to get producers who would give him music that at least engaged him and then he began to open up. You found out his love for old wine and even older books. You saw his soft spot for his personal assistant and wardrobe specialist, Perona. You found yourself having long, thoughtful conversations about the music industry late into the night. There was a sense of pride that you had for how close you’ve been able to get with the man- but not too close. You were a professional.

Crocodile was the most interesting one. He was the least into the music, you learned early on being a part of the band was a means to an end for him. But that didn’t stop him from being talented. You would catch him drumming on his desk while he worked, complicated rhythms mindlessly and effortlessly played. You made sure every bit of paperwork was always in order and ran every big picture idea through him. Buggy may be the vocalist- but Crocodile was the leader. It wasn’t often you got any sort of praise or even acknowledgment from the man but when you did you couldn’t help the way your stomached tumbled over itself. You’d have to stamp down those stupid feelings every once in a while, because when you’d let them linger they’d follow you home and into bed.

It was fine though, to indulge occasionally. When it was just you alone in your apartment you could fantasize that one of those men would pull you aside and take you home with them. Imagining Buggy’s mouth on you- Mihawk’s long fingers in you- or how Crocodile’s large body would feel caging you in.

It was fine because it was never going to happen. They were rockstars and you were just their manager. You would never sleep with any of them.

That is until you ended up sleeping with all of them.

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #discordantwritings #crocodile x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #mihawk x reader #sir crocodile x reader #x reader #buggy x reader #the cross guild x reader #cross guild x reader

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yandere-metal-family · 11 months ago

Note

Could you do something with heavy? I don’t really know what he’s just my favorite and there’s not much for him.

Of course!!!! I have tons of other requests, but I love Heavy so much, because he's a sweetheart and you're right there isn't much for him, because people only like Dee >:( So, for you here are some headcanons!

youtube

He had made a stupid joke during a lecture [Probably one making fun of the teacher] and you had laughed, causing you both to land in detention

You didn't know each other very well. The only words exchanged were him asking you for a pencil or a piece of paper because he didn't have any

So, the two of you were only acquainted as peers/classmates, but now you had made him a sworn enemy in your mind. You had never been in trouble before, but now here you were, sitting in Detention over a joke that wasn't even that funny

He kept turning towards you to get a look at you. You were giving him a death glare and it kind of freaked him out

He had a crush on you, so he was a little disappointed that you now seemed to dislike him

Tries talking to you next day, but you completely ignored him. He had ruined your good reputation and you were mad

Wants to prove that he's a good guy, so he'll try and get you something you'll like to apologize

Being a class clown is the only thing he really has going for him, so for you to not like the one thing is good at, well it bothers him

He eventually invites you over, which you reluctantly agree to, to maybe try and get on your good side

You notice he has a guitar and asks if he plays

His face practically lights up. He was practically a prodigy when it came to music

"Yes! Yes I do," He quickly stands up and goes to his guitar, before sitting on the edge of his bed and looking at you

You stare back, confused, wondering why he's staring at you

"Do you want me to play a specific song?"

"Oh!" Your face lights up, "Ummm... Do you know Perfect Girl?"

He doesn't but he doesn't want to say that. He just shakes his head, "Yeah, let me look it up, so I can get the chords."

You're impressed by his abilities and Heavy is practically shining with pride

You keep popping out songs and he plays each one relatively well

You click over your enjoyment for music

He's just happy to please you and finally be friends

#metal family #yandere metal family #metal family x reader #yandere metal family x reader #yandere heavy x reader #yandere heavy #heavy x reader #metal family heavy #heavy #heavy schvagenbagen

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that-damn-fouth-chaosemerald · 11 months ago

Text

𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ♡

See my other Welcome Home work here!

Requested by @mugmaya19

Request: If you are taking in requests could you do one where we just randomly grab their face and kiss them around their face’s before we just walk away like nothing happened? Again if you aren’t doing that then feel free to use this as a way of creative thinking! Have a good day

×A/N×

Omg I had so much fun the writing of this!! I love them so much! 😭❤

I think the chosed scenario was adorable and I absolutely loved it!

I hope you'll have the same fun with the reading of this!

Btw sorry for the picture of Sally :")

(You don't know how much I loved writing Poppy's part- 😭❤)

×❢ About my work ❢×

no proofread, it can have spelling mistakes, look, idk if they can blush or even have a heart, but now they do, okay? lol, no smut, just sweet fluff, no pronouns used for the reader, petnames like darling, love, hon.

Fandom: Welcome Home horror project by Clown

Character(s): Wally Darling, Barnaby B. Beagle, Eddie Dear, Julie Joyful, Frank Frankly, Howdy Pillar, Sally Starlet, Poppy Partridge, The Reader|You| (Y/N) |Neighbour

Ship(s): The characters x The Reader|You| (Y/N) |Neighbour

Form: Headcanons

Wally Darling

"Wally, come here, I want to show you something!"

• after you placed his face into your hands

• You started kissing him around

• cheeks, lips, nose

• gosh he felt like heaven between your kisses

• he just sat there still as he accepted his fate

• not like he would want to disagree :D

• after some time, he even leaned forward a bit to have more

• he decided that it was his turn to give you kisses

• he was planning to give a "mwah" to you

• but you turned away and left him

• (a.n: *dramatic gasp* how dare you?! >:c)

• he was just sitting there and confusedly watched as you left

• "Where are you going, neighbour?"

• dw, if you're not getting his smooch now, you'll get it later, I can promise that! 😌✨

Sally Starlet

"Sally, can you come here for a minute?"

• she was practicing, so at first she wasn't too happy that you disturbed her

• "Yeah, yeah, I'm almost finished (Y/N)!"

• after a few minutes she were already in front of you with a furious look

• (a.n: how dare you disturb her? >:( /jk)

• "What do you want, (Y/N)?" she asked impatiently.

• but you just stood up and gave a small kiss on her lips without an answer

• she was too surprised to react anything, so you continued

• her face was between your soft hands, while you gave an another kiss on her forehead

• she didn't fight too much about it

• she even leaned into your touch

• after you were done, you thought that you can just simply walk away

• well, *chuckle* no.

• you DISTURBED her practice, then made her heart skip a beat and fall in love with you AGAIN, and after all this, you wanna just WALK AWAY like nothing happened?!

• she quickly catched you by your wrist with a unsatisfied look and a smirk on her face

• "No, I think not, (Y/N). We need to talk."

Frank Frankly

"Frank, can you come here?"

• first he just approached you innocently, but he could feel that you were planning something

• he didn't know what specifically, but the aura around you could tell that you're on something

• but he still walked up to you and asked

• "What do you need, darling?"

• you gently put your hands on his face

• and give one kiss to his forehead

• an another to his lips

• and an another one to his right cheek

• "What are you doing, darling?" he asked as he softly pulled you closer to him by your hips.

• you just kept kissing him, didn't bring yourself to answer

• you didn't let him to give back the kisses, but he could catch one and return it

• he even hummed from the enjoyment of your affection

• he could stay like this forever and ever

• but you let go from him

• the moment that he realised that you're planning to go away, he quickly grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to him

• "Where do you think you're going, love?"

Barnaby B. Beagle

"Come here, Barnaby!"

• he feels like heaven between your hands

• he immediately leaned into the touch as you started kissing him around his face

• gosh your rubs feels so good!

• I can imagine that he gently starts biting your hands in an affectionately way

• he even closed his eyes from your sweet kisses

• but as soon as he stopped feeling your touch, he quickly opened his eyes confusedly

• in the last minutes, he still hoped that you'll turn back

• but you didn't :(

• "Uhh... (Y/N)? Buddy? Where are you going?"

Howdy Pillar

"Howdy, can you help me, please?"

• he came up to you obliviously

• "What is it, hon?"

• he's always ready to help you, when you need him

• you asked him to come closer and he did as you requested from him

• you softly grabbed his face and started placing sweet kisses on his face

• he softly chuckled at the first ones

• he's more like a kiss giver than receiver, but although he enjoys it

• when you wanted to leave, he just simply whined

• "No, don't go, (Y/N)!"

Poppy Partridge

• Today Poppy seemed like she was pretty frustrated. Her wings were shaking, making the binding more difficult to her. You decided to check on her and give her a little comfort.

"Wa- Wait, Poppy, let me help you!"

• you made her to let go the sweater that she was working on and after her attention was on you, you've finally could help

• you gently started to caress her wings, attend to not to crease her feathers

• and gave soft kisses around her beak

• but she's just got more frustrated and flushed

• when you were about to leave, you actually changed your mind

• she didn't say anything 'cause she was too nervous and shy to say it out loud, but her eyes were literally begged for your affection

• please give her more, she deserves it! ♡

• (btw the sweater which was she working on, it's actually for)

Julie Joyful

"Hey, Julie, come here!"

• she approached you happily and smiley, like she always does

• what she didn't know that you were planning to make her heart jump out of her chest

• ( i mean, in a metaphoric way)

• "What is it, (Y/N)?"

• you didn't pay attention to answer, instead you just grabbed her face and started kissing her around

• i can imagine that she giggles while you kissing her

• she actually leans forward to make your work easier

• when you walked away, Julie just simply started to follow you with a disappointed look

• "Aww, where are you going, (Y/N)?" "Don't leave me here!" "But (Y/N)!"

• she will keep ask more until you actually give the kisses to her

Eddie Dear

"Eddie, can you come here for a second?"

• I can assure that you kept kissing him much longer than just a second lol

• he was there in seconds

• just like always, he's ready to help you in anything

• "Is there something wrong, hon?"

• at first, he wanted to return the kisses when you started to give them to him

• but later he finally catch up that it was you what will give the kisses

• so he just leaned into your touch and enjoyed your soft kisses

• as he got more comfortable in your touch eventually he closed his eyes

• he was just about to get too comfy, when you stood up and walked away

• He calls after you worriedly.

"(Y/N)? Did I do something wrong?"

• he's more worried than confused, 'cause he's afraid that he did something wrong to you

• please give him more kisses to make sure that he's loved and he did nothing wrong (and that he doesn't cry)

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r3starttt · 2 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/r3starttt/765781552951148544/mornin-i-woke-up-to-so-many-posts-including?source=share

y’know, that part of the gun play in your fic reminded me of one part of “maxxxine” (goin’ a bit woohoo lately, my bad) where SPOILERS she forced a man to be on his knees and made him suck on her gun

tw: gun play; spreading craziness; “i always liked my women a bit crazy”; jinx can shoot me in the head, i’ll revive and apologize for making a mess on her clothes; not that kind of a mess, but, y’know, taking a bloodbath of your lover sounds like a sexy mess.

so, i imagined smth similar with jinx 🤕 (my li’l maniac deserves more recognition and fics with fem!reader)

where jinx would slip the barrel of the gun between your slicked lips from how nervous you got at the prospection of being shot (deep down knowing that jinx would never harm you, no matter the ‘alice’s wonderland’ that she had going on in her fucked up head).

how she would say, “suck,” as if you would’ve not done it yourself — no questions asked — before wrapping your lips loosely around the muzzle and starting to bob your head up and down the metallic surfaces; feeling the ridges and the bumps.

noticing jinx’s open wide in that familiar delirium and fascination eyes as she watched the show you put on for her. how her forefinger would tremble ever-so-slightly on the trigger, making it more noticeably for your own satisfaction, but also like a silent warning. ‘move and i could easily shoot you in that pretty mouth of yours’

how you would comply and take more inches of the barrel as it was shoved into your cavity, touching the back of your throat and making you gag slightly — leaving jinx cooing at you condescendingly, as if the sight alone was a fuckin’ shit show or a circus with clowns for her enjoyment alone, instead of her girlfriend being pointed with her gun and making her do a blowjob to the aforementioned.

with your knees rubbing and pressing together mercilessly (mindlessly, at this point), which prompted a reaction of jinx immediately. placing her boot between your bare thighs and shoving them apart forcefully, before pushing the tip against your naked, exposed to the air cunt — raising an eyebrow in silent inquire. “y’know what to do,” she rasped — her voice sounding as if someone passed a nail over a sandpaper; the only sign of her own need and lust for you. “either you move those hips, or m’gonna leave you hangin’ here. alone. and you don’wanna that, don’cha? no, you don’t, ‘cuz you’re such a slut for me.”

and you did. buckling your hips slowly, tentatively against the provided leathery material. your breath staggering in the back of your throat, but scooting closer to the source of friction and, surprisingly, warmth.

the raw need to be jinx’s meal, guys 😮‍💨. i’m just a girl.

DID YOU JUST WRITE THE WHOLE FIC

someone give this woman an award

#thanks for writing this btw #my day just got better #ANSWERS ✶.ᐟ ( 🎏 )

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burningcheese-merchant · 1 month ago

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Sorry for deviating from the current Topic (and from the theme of the blog) but do you have any Shadowvanilla/Pureshadow hcs or ideas? They're my favorite Beat x Ancient pair and your mind makes tasty food

One more ask before I log off and go do my damn work like I'm supposed to lol

Don't apologize, I really don't mind questions about stuff besides Evil Spice Man x Pretty Cheese Lady 😅 I enjoy quite a few ships within these games, PureShadow included. They're actually my #2 Beast x Ancient pair! #3 is split between MysticCacao and SilentLily, with the latter having an edge over the former. I'd probably have a more concrete enjoyment of HollySugar if I had an idea of what Eternal Sugar is actually like (which is hypocritical of me since we don't know Silent Salt either but whatever leave me alone), and also if I didn't love HollyCacao so much (they were actually my #1 straight ship before BurningCheese completely destroyed my life. It's also what keeps MysticCacao lower down the totem pole, as well. I love Dark, Depressed Person x Ray of Sunshine pairs, same thing with AbyssEel)

Blue Discount Bill Cipher x Cookie Jesus, here we gooooooo

I imagine that Shadow would be quite touchy, and likely rather silly and dramatic in how he satisfies his want/need for touch. He'll pinch Vanilla's cheeks. He'll hug Vanilla tight, from any and all sides (and he will try to sneak up and hug him by surprise if he can, because he thinks startling Vani is funny). He'll fiddle with Vanilla's hair. He'll also try to have Vanilla touch him, in turn; like grabbing Vanilla's hands and placing them on his waist, or looping Vanilla's arms around his neck. Just a touch-starved clown goblin thing (but Vani thinks it's cute, so it's ok)

Many, many mind games - but not necessarily the sort designed to torment, the ones legitimately meant to challenge and sharpen one's wit. Shadow gives Vanilla riddles and waits to see when and how he'll solve them (when, not if, because Vani actually is smart and Shadow loves it). They compete to see who can complete a crossword first (extremely large and highest difficulty possible). Games of chess that last all day, with that day ending with an equal amount of victories and losses on both sides. Above all else - and there's a lot, don't you worry - Shadow loves Vanilla's mind. His know-how, his mental fortitude. He considers Vanilla his only intellectual equal. He likes to put Vanilla's mind under pressure just to see how Vanilla will perform. And Vanilla never disappoints.

Vanilla knows Shadow well enough soon enough to know when Shadow is lying, even without the Light of Truth aiding his perception in any way. Shadow has tells, however subtle and controlled they are - and Vanilla comes to know them well, to the point that Shadow well and truly cannot fool him no matter what trick he pulls. (But it's fine; Shadow actually enjoys the frustration that comes with not being able to fool Vani anymore. It only pushes him to practice lying better. To perfect his craft. Vani is doing him a favor, in a way. He'll trick him again one of these days)

Lots of pet names and terms of endearment from Shadow to Vanilla, of varying degrees of silliness (but all equally sincere). Above all else, he's "Vani" and "Silly-Vanilly", but he's also the sun to Shadow's moon, the angel to Shadow's devil, the butter on his biscuit, the award to his stageplay, the wind beneath his wings, the hand rocking his cradle (lol wtf), the kindling to his wildfire, his cutie, his darling, his muse (Shadow calls him this a lot, too). He says it all with all the grinning confidence an unapologetically flirtatious clown can muster... Until Vani calls him "dear", then he immediately melts into a puddle of blue goo lol

Though he insists that he's found joy and peace in the present, Vanilla does miss his old kingdom - and Shadow knows it, because he likes to waltz in and make himself at home in Vani's thoughts and dreams a lot lol. In a rare moment of genuine sympathy (because Shadow does care about him, he might be a menace, and he might have an... interesting way of showing it, but he does love and adore his Vani), Shadow will sometimes try to manipulate his dreams into ones about the kingdom. About that idyllic past that he misses so much. He'll try to draw from what he can see of Vanilla's memories (which isn't much, admittedly; Vanilla's mind is surprisingly guarded) and use those to paint him pretty pictures of people and places that don't exist anymore. He doesn't actually know if it helps, Vani won't really say anything about it (or if he even notices it's Shadow doing it), but... he tries anyway, because being sad when someone else is sad is a garbage feeling and he wants it gone. And he wants Vani to smile. Vani has a nice smile. The prettiest smile he ever did see...

Shadow is actually fun and interesting to talk to, if you manage to undo all the webs of lies and half-truths and ploys for attention cocooning his stupid ass. And Vanilla puts in the effort, out of a genuine want to get to know Shadow - the real one, not whatever mask Shadow puts on for every situation. Shadow never says so, but... he appreciates it. It's rather touching. No one's done that in a long, long time... (Not that Shadow likes to talk about that, or his past at all, even with Vani's gentle insistence)

Shadow will not leave Vanilla alone ever lol. Whether in his mind or in person. Shadow is clingy and an attention-seeker, and he craves Vanilla's attention above all others'. Vanilla doesn't mind, he likes spending time with Shadow, but he does worry about how healthy it is to only want one person in your life and tries to encourage him to also spend time with others (to varying degrees of success)

Shadow is probably into bondage and Vani probably indulges him occasionally, provided he remembers their safe word and still respects Vani's boundaries in general

#cookie run kingdom #shadow milk cookie #pure vanilla cookie #pureshadow #shadowvanilla #shadow milk crk #pure vanilla crk #i have more but my head hurts lol give me time and I'll articulate them later

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rhey-007 · 1 year ago

Text

*+:｡.｡ 𝕮𝖔𝖗𝖓 𝕸𝖆𝖟𝖊 ｡.｡:+*

FP Jones x reader | 18+ SMUT

Summary: after saving your brothers ass from serpents, you get a pleasant surprise from FP

Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbation (f receiving), slight age gap (reader is 20, FP in his late 20's), outdoors sex

Author's note: it's my first time writing smut 🫣 so I apologise in advance (just in case) 😅 enjoy!

It was 31st October 1995, Halloween.

Your first Halloween as an adult.

Your father was a farmer known for his halloween corn mazes so it was obvious that you would help him prepare it for halloween. You would go inside and place various decorations, starting from jack-o'-lanters through scarecrows, finishing at bedsheet ghosts. That was a standard, but this year you also decided to hire your friends to dress up as monsters, hide in the corn and scare people. Of course you weren't an exception either. You dressed up as a blood thirsty nun that greeted children, teens and adults by the entrance, and later joined your friends inside the maze, while your father sold the tickets dressed as a murderous clown.

You found scaring people fun, especially the kids. But your enjoyment came to an end later that evening when you had to come back to the reception and replace your father for a while. That's when a scarecrow like creature came running in your direction. Though it didn't take you long to figure out it was your older brother Ben, who must have gotten himself in some shit again, followed by a couple of furious serpents.

You didn't say a word, just shook your head disapprovingly and shoved Ben into the maze. As you later found out, your brother angried the serpents by stealing from them, it wasn't a lot but you knew each gram of heroin was worth the anger. Ben quickly left but managed to shout you a short thanks and sorry.

Now you just had to deal with the serpents...

When they made their way to you, you would finally see who it actually was, and of course it couldn't be anyone esle than Forsythe Pendleton Jones II with his two sidekicks. In that moment you knew you'll have a hard job to do. You didn't know FP personally, but you heard a lot about him, mostly bad things, and you started to worry you wouldn't be able to handle them.

''What do you want here FP''

You stood in front of the gateway and looked the man up and down, just as he did to you.

''Move. Kid.''

He hissed, but you just furrowed your brows and crossed your arms. No one's gonna call you a kid, especially not that douchebag. You stood there in silence for a while, neither of you planning on moving, so you finally spoke up.

''I don't care what he did, but I'm sure you're not pleased with that. But instead of chasing him and trying to beat his ass maybe you should try to think of a way to prevent more situations like that, huh? ... Oh wait! You can't, you're too dumb''

You smiled at him sweetly after your short speech. FP curled his hands into fists angrily, a vein about to pop on his forehead. He had enough of the bratty girl so he just shoved her to the ground and run into the maze. The girl took too much of their time already.

After getting up from the ground and dusting yourself off, you looked at your watch wondering how much time it would take the three to come back. In fact it didn't take them a lot as just after few turns they were lost. Good thing one of them memorised the way, so they came back the same way they went it. You smirked triumphally seeing three slumped figures leave the maze, you knew well they wouldn't make it far.

At night you sneaked into Ben's room to retrieve the stolen goods, you couldn't let him take it after all.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 🎃 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The next day was time to clean the maze and gather the corn. You and your best friend Ashley cleaned it from the early hours of the day and just by accident FP knew about it. In reality he met one of your friends he's seen you once with in the town and forced that information out of him. He came to the attraction early enough to already find you inside. The man sneaked in without Ashley noticing and found you quite qickly as you weren't far away.

''You already finished Ashley?''

You asked as you heard someone move behind you, but you couldn't care enought to turn around. Well... not until you heared his voice.

''It ain't her''

He said as he came closer to you. You gulped softly not expecting to see FP there.

''The attraction is closed, come back next year''

You huffed, trying to stay calm and not show the slight fear that boiled inside of you. Why you were so scared suddenly? Because you had nothing to defend yourself with and the look in his eyes made you feel uneasy. FP looked at you as a predator would look at his prey. He moved closer and closer until he had you squished in a corner.

''If the attracion is closed then why are you still here, sugar?''

The nickname made you feel sick, which you couldn't say about his cologne that weirdly calmed you down. FP put his hands on your hips and squeezed them gently.

''Not a lot of people stand up against me... Yet you...''

He licked his lips while looking down at you.

''You did it without a second thought just to defend your stupid brother. And you know what?... That turns me on''

FP didn't even give you a chance to say something before he smashed his lips on yours. You had to admit you were pleasantly surprised, which sounds weird considering the fact that you didn't even know him. But he was handsome... really handsome, and you always had a thing for him that you never admited out loud, even though he was older than you and it felt a little inappropriate. So when he kissed you, it just took you a few second to kiss him back, which surely satisfied and exctied the older man.

You pulled away when you felt breathless and looked down not wanting to make eye contact with FP, a dark blush appearing on your pale face.

„You've just kissed me as if your life depended on it and now you're all shy?"

The man mocked, his hand reaching up to capture your chin and lift it up so you would look back at him, a wicked smirk was painted on his face. It really suited him. Soon FP's hand wandered back to your hip to then grab your ass. You squeaked when he picked you up, your arms immediately wrapping around his neck. He put you down on hay bales stacked together then started his unholy ministrations on your neck, earning quiet moans from you every now and then. If that wasn't enough, one of his hands rubbed your thigh up and down, each time coming closer to your aching core, while the other creeped under your shirt, slowly making it's way to your breasts.

„Fp... „

You moaned out, your hands gripping his mucled arm and burgundy T-shirt. The man took it as a sing to proceed further, his hand slipped under your bra and started to massage your breast. Your palm slid down his clothed torso to meet his semi hard member and grip it gently. He groaned into your ear when you did that and bit it softly then captured your lips into another, more aggressive but still passionate kiss.

„God dammit sweetheart... „

FP couldn’t wait anymore, he unbuckled his belt, pulling his pants and boxers down then did the same to your shorts and panties. You looked down, your mouth in slight agape. He was huge, at least he seemed like it, you didn’t think you'd be able to take him all but you were wrong. With one swift thrust he was balls deep inside of you. A juicy moan escaped your lips which made FP slam his hand on top of them.

„Shh... We don't want anyone to find out, do we?"

He whispered and tilted his head softly. You just nodded obediently and let him fuck you. His hips moved with an agonizing yet sweetly pleasuring pace. You never thought sex could be that good, and it wasn't your first time.

„Shit... Ya feel so good... „

He groaned out. His palm moved from your lips to your neck to grip it softly, your own hand quickly following it signaling your worry about the act.

„Don't worry... Don't wanna loose such great pussy so quickly... "

The man breathed out between grunts. You decided to trust him so you moved your hands to his cheeks to pull his face down for a kiss. In meanwhile FP started to circle his thumb on your clit, giving you even more pleasure and almost immediately making you reach your orgasm. He groaned dissatisfied into your lips and mumbled.

„Thought you'll last longer... Now you gotta gimmie another one sugar...”

He sped up his movement both on your clit and inside of you.

„I... I-I can't take it... Anymore... "

You've managed to say between moans, but it didn't seem to affect the man in any way, he just kept fucking you relentlessly.

„You on the pill? „

He asked suddenly when he felt the two of you were about to finish. You just nodded and soon another wave of pleasure hit you alongside the warmth of FP's seed spilling out inside of you. You both breathed heavily, neither of you going to say anything, just indulging in pleasure and silence. Soon FP pulled his member out of you, his semen slowly spilling out.

„Look at you...”

The man smirked triumphantly after tucking himself back into his boxers and pulling his pants back up.

„Wouldn’t thought Ben's sister's pussy could be that good of a fuck”

You just rolled your eyes, you were kind of annoyed that you've let him fuck you but also really satisfied. You cleaned yourself with a tissue then put your underwear and shorts on.

"And I wanted to give you this back"

You said as you wiggled the bag of heroin in front of his face and shook your head with a smirk. FP smiled back at you and snatched the bag away to then hide it in the pocket of his jacket.

„When's next session? ”

You soon blurted out earning a little confused look from FP at first but his expression changed rather fast, as now he was smiling from ear to ear.

„I'll pick you up at 7. Now lemme help you get this maze cleaned”

After a some time, what seemed like a few quickies and fuck sessions turned into something more.

#fp jones x reader #fp jones #riverdale fp jones #riverdale #riverdale smut #smut #18+ fanfic #riverdale fanfiction #halloween

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spiral-lemur · 3 months ago

Text

OK THE ANNUAL’S OUT AND I JUST NEED TO BABBLE ABOUT STUFF SOOO SPOILERS AHEAD READ AT UR OWN RISK ETC ETC ETC

OK STORY NUMBER 1.

Ok wow. No it’s fine really. Go ahead. Go ahead and BREAK MY FUCKING HEART right off the bat. They don’t even know later in they’re subconsciously Still following the path Starline mapped out for them by still aiming to replace Sonic and Tails. Like yeah this time Eggman is on the chopping block for real which would make Starline lose his gay little mind but GODDDDDDD

Also it’s really funny that the general perception is that Kit is the more mellow of the two. Appearance wise? Yeah. Mannerisms? For the most part yeah. But deep down this little guy is FUCKED UP.

Like every so often the comic just reminds you “see this cute little guy? he can and will drown you for nothing more than surge’s happiness if he sees fit.” Lil dude does NOT care. Genuinely curious as to how this plotline will develop later on since Kit is clearly misguided. Yes he wants to help Surge and she’ll be happy for a while with this arrangement…as long as she doesn’t find out. What happens when she finds out though? I doubt she’ll be very happy to know all her “accomplishments” were part of a carefully constructed narrative set up by the very person who was meant to support her. I’m just RRRRRRRRGGHRGGHHHRTHHHHHH about them yknow? Also I think it’s interesting that this is set sometime after issue 75; very curious about what “he had to drag them out of there” means for the safety of Restoration HQ and I’m even more curious about where Surge and Kit are right now. Are they still there? Bunking somewhere else? What happened with them and their ties to Clutch and Mimic? Lots of questions to wait and find out. Very excited to see how this goes.

Now for the Knuckles story; admittedly this one isn’t spinning around my brain as much because of the other two stories, but it’s still a lovely read. It serves as some insight for Knuckles’ thoughts about his current life and relationships with his friends and it brings a good ol’ smile to my face.

The art FUCKS as usual when ABT is involved. Like this page? This page right here. Gorgeous. Would be a very fun redraw I think. And I feel it says a lot about how Knuckles feels about these characters without having to say anything which is nice. Rouge, for all the trouble she gives him, also gives him an outlet to blow off some steam and a reason to keep up with his training(aside from Eggman of course), and she obviously wouldn’t be there if he didn’t respect her to some degree. Sonic is someone Knuckles views as a worthy rival, but he’s also a treasured friend alongside Amy and Tails. They may clash, but he knows that at the end of the day they’ve got his back, and he’s got their’s. The Chaotix are a little trickier to pinpoint, but they’re here for a reason. I believe they add a dash of excitement and companionship to his life. They might be a bunch of clowns, but they’re HIS clowns and he cares about them just as much as everyone else here. He knows he can depend on them when it comes down to it, which is what I believe the Master Emerald was trying to get at here.

Also Sonknux enjoyers got a little snack here. A little treat even. But it’s nice to see that just like these guys are still on Knuckles’ mind, he never left THEIR minds either. It’s nice to see that they aren’t just trying to get his help for something and just giving him a friendly visit because 1.) We get to see Knuckles and 2.) The dude could use a day where they don’t bring trouble to his doorstep LOL

Also what the FUCK happened to the Tornado guys I JUST said you weren’t bringing trouble to his doorstep you better keep it that way—

And then it ends with the gang catching Knux up to speed on their latest shenanigans. Like I mentioned earlier I think this story serves as a look into how Knuckles views his current situation, and it’s very heartwarming in my opinion. I think this sequence really sums up the big takeaway from this story:

sorry the quality is ass it’s hard to do these things on a phone

There was a moment where I thought that bright light echidna was Tikal, and I’m a little disappointed it wasn’t. It’s still nice but if it’d been her, you’d best believe I’d have a lot more screamy words about it. It’s not a bad story at all though, and if you’re a Knuckles fan who loves digging into his deeper thoughts I think this story is a good read for you. Also YIPPIEE KNUCKLES CONFIRMED FOR ISSUE 80!!!

Now for the story that I(and I’m sure many others are) am currently foaming at the mouth the most over. It’s no surprise at all that a look into Mimic’s backstory would be something I eat the fuck up as a massive fan of Tangle, Whisper, and everything relating to them. But holy WOW this story had everything I could’ve wanted and I will be using this as fuel for my Diamond Cutter Autism™️

Okay, starting off with him being an actor before joining the Diamond Cutters. This may not seem as relevant to people compared to literally everything else in this story BUT you guys. You guys. When I tell you I lost my shit. Why? BECAUSE I FUCKING CALLED THAT SHIT.

This excerpt is from a (now scrapped) fic where I tried tackling a possible redemption arc for Mimic. We hadn’t had any backstory for Mimic so I’d tried making one up that tied into his shapeshifting. I ended up scrapping the whole thing because Mimic kept getting worse/more irredeemable as a character and I didn’t feel like trying to keep it going; and I feel the need to bring up that Tangle and Whisper would’ve never fully trusted or forgiven him(like. at all), he just would’ve gotten over trying to kill them by the end. I swear I wasn’t aiming for a “you did this horrible shit but it’s ok you feel bad about it so we’re buddies now :3” type deal. Anyway, that useless bit of info aside, I wrote this thing back in 2022. It’s not EXACTLY the same way obviously, but seeing this after having written him as a former actor made me actually stop and gape for a second before scrambling to find that old draft. I guess I could just SMELL the washed up actor on him. And yeah maybe it was the most plausible thing, but I’ve been given an inch and just this once I’m going to run this mile in circles.

After the whole acting thing, the war started, Mimic wanted to show off, left some other teams for dead, etc etc and then he met THEM.

This…houghhhhhhhhh

Do you think Whisper ever thinks back to this day? Do you think it’s ever crossed her mind that if she’d never invited him, her friends might still be alive? Do you think this thought eats her alive on bad nights? Whisper honey I am so fucking sorry. It’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known how fucking shitty this guy really was. You didn’t deserve that.

FUCK!!!

Ahem. It’s really bittersweet looking into how these guys acted not just as a team, but as friends. We got a better look as to how these guys were personality-wise and it just stings knowing that this little found family is no longer here because one of them just couldn’t handle vulnerability. Smithy was like an older brother—wise, but just as goofy and playful as the rest of them, and just as ready to tease his little twerps. Claire was like an older sister; similar to Smithy, always looking out for the others, but just as ready to make fun of them. She was probably the straightman in a lot of their antics, but with that loving “oh, you” sense to it. Slinger was the goofy, cocky younger brother. Ready to go for the biggest thing he could find, and usually needing to be saved from his own ambition. He’d make up for that trouble by bringing in a lifetime supply of laughs for all of them. And Whisper…honestly I’d go as far as saying Whisper back then was just like Tangle is now. Optimistic, eager, bubbly. I wonder if that might be why she gravitated towards Tangle rather than the other characters she was friendly with; even before their miniseries. I’d show more images for this part but apparently I can only use 10 images on a phone and my computer still isn’t up so that’s just SWELL. For the last image I’ve got, I’ll just use this:

It just stings so HARD when you really think about what was taken from her. We might have gotten the Whisper we know and love because of it, sure. She may not have met any of the people she holds dear now if it hadn’t gone the way it did. But the fact that she had this little family, the fact she loved them so dearly, the fact she’d put so much trust into them—only to have it ripped away in one selfish decision? That’ll hurt forever. That’ll haunt her for the rest of life; it’ll haunt me too. God the Diamond Cutters sting so good.

Now let’s get Mimic’s little monologue in here. Ahem.

“I got what I wanted. Did I just crave validation? Was it ever about the spotlight? I can’t be myself around them. They don’t know what I’ve done…friendship is supposed to feel good. Solid. Like a foundation…so why does it hurt so much? They don’t see I’m a walking contradiction. One look p-past my facade and I’ll be thrown away! I can’t afford to be so fragile. I look back at my acting days with a soul-wrenching truth staring back at me. The more things change, the more they stay the same. It’s a rehearsed charade! They are all mirrors, saying what I want to hear until they get what they want. They can’t be trusted. I refuse to play this game anymore.

The moment an opportunity to be rid of these nuisances came, I readily took it. The Diamond Cutters would be gone from this world and mine. I could clear my mind and never feel such visceral pain from their fake smiles. Attachment was erased, like weeds pulled from a garden, as they perished. The pain inside nearly vanished, a good sign for my healing journey. Yet…there was a single, terribly annoying headache left to deal with. I can’t fix what that team did to me until I shatter every last one. Only with this knife, will I finally be cleansed.

I can’t think straight tonight. What is the point of reflecting on all these memories? Am I afraid? Or am I just…tired? Soon, that pain deep within myself will be washed away. And this can all be a bad, bad dream. I’m selfish, arrogant, and colder than a frozen lake. I enjoy the chase, watching others struggle, and I love that about me! I know what I am, so…who are you?”

Man…a LOT to unpack here.

Mimic is a coward. There’s certainly vitriol to my words, but it’s also just a fact based on the evidence we’ve seen. He’d been burned so many times chasing the spotlight in the past, he’d grown to view it as conditional. No one ever truly valued his contributions in his eyes. He was just another part of an act, and when that act was over, no one would need each other anymore—so whenever he felt done with putting on the “show” of contributing to a new team during the war, he quickly cut ties. Some ways more permanent than others—we’ll never know for certain if he got those people killed like the Diamond Cutters, but he certainly didn’t care if he did. The show was over. It didn’t matter.

Then the Diamond Cutters came along. The show was going well, it was a broadway smash! Then the actor’s nemesis began to creep in; imposter syndrome. Mimic knew deep down, he didn’t deserve this success. How many people did he really cut down as he chased the spotlight? How many people had seen his previous work? How long until that all came back to bite him? He didn’t know. It terrified him deep down, judging from the moments of hesitation he’d shown in his monologue. Surely it began to gnaw at him more and more towards the end. He can’t trust them, his smiles were fake so they all had to be faking too, right? There was no way there was such a thing as genuine friendship, teamwork, or any of the like. If it didn’t exist in his world, it couldn’t have existed at all. It began to be kill or be killed; and Mimic intended to be the one doing the killing. So he cut them down too.

But Whisper survived. Whisper was a present reminder of the horrible, selfish things he’d done. As long as she’s around, he can never fully ignore what he’s left behind. He can never truly run away from all of it. So he has his sights set on her; killing her will surely solve all the pain within himself. It has to. It has to.

And he still hesitates. Maybe it’s the way suppressed guilt is manifesting itself, maybe it’s being overly cautious, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. Perhaps once there was a time he could’ve gone back on everything and reinvented himself, but it’s gone now. And he’ll run away from that possibility for the rest of his life. He just has to get rid of that last poster before he can move on to his next big show.

Or I could easily be reading way too much into it but who cares I’m having fun this way! Really enjoyed this story—easily my favorite of the three if you couldn’t tell from all that word vomit. This annual might just be my favorite of them all so far, and I’m excited to see how these characters continue to develop as the comic runs on. That’s just about everything I can think of to say, so that ends my babbling. Thanks to everyone who read this far! I don’t normally get so wordy but this annual really just activated something in me.

#idw sonic spoilers #idw sonic #surge the tenrec #kit the fennec #knuckles the echidna #whisper the wolf #slinger the ocelot #smithy the lion #claire voyance #mimic the octopus #mar says a thing

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